


Ensnared

by combatfaerie



Series: Ensnared [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Don't copy to another site, F/F, F/M, Multi, Sexual Content, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie
Summary: Since they're all werewolves, it's no surprise that Becky Lynch, Sasha Banks, and Seth Rollins have bonded, making their own little pack within WWE. But while Sasha's involved with both her packmates, Becky keeps herself from starting anything with Seth, no matter how much she—or he—would like to. When one of them is injured, potentially exposing their true nature, will it be enough to finally change Becky's mind?
Relationships: Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Sasha Banks/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Sasha Banks & Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox, Sasha Banks/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Series: Ensnared [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049843
Kudos: 32





	1. Author's Note

In case you didn't read the blurb, I'll be very clear: This story has f/f, f/m, and f/f/m sexual content. There is Becky/Sasha, Sasha/Seth, Becky/Seth, and Becky/Sasha/Seth.

I don't usually write in present tense, but that seemed to be the way this story wanted to happen. It feels strange to me, but whenever I tried to change it, it didn't work, so I'm hoping the story is still okay. I also wasn't able to watch NXT back when Seth, Becky, or Sasha were on it, so it's AU in terms of timeline as well.

If you have tag suggestions, please let me know. I don't know what the Becky/Sasha and Sasha/Seth tags are.


	1. Chapter 1

Hiding in plain sight was a skill all werewolves needed to learn at a young age. Team BAE was taking it to another level—one Becky sometimes thinks she ought to question more. At first it had been just such a relief—and a delight—to find another werewolf when she moved to the United States. Meeting one who was also a woman was an added bonus: female werewolves weren't unheard of by any means, but they were certainly less common than male ones. Discovering Sasha at NXT felt like a dream.

"Becks?" Sasha falls still between her legs, curling her hands around Becky's hips. "Still with me?"

Becky answers with a nod and a sigh, all she can manage with an orgasm on the horizon. Trying to maintain a wrestling career while keeping her werewolf nature a secret had been exhausting, not to mention dangerous at times, and Becky couldn't fathom anyone else doing it. Even she—the girl who had loved wrestling as a kid, who had kept at it even though she was awful, who had followed wrestling all over the world trying to make her dream a reality—had been forced to give it up for years. To give it up _forever_ , she once feared, until she was told about a new developmental program WWE was starting up. But there Sasha was, and her mere presence gave Becky so much hope. If this small, stubborn werewolf woman could balance being a wrestler along with being a werewolf, then Becky could too.

"You sure?" Sasha teases, sliding her fingers deep into Becky. "Because I can stop—"

"Don't you dare." Becky reaches down and grips Sasha's hair, careful not to tug too hard. She damaged more than a few of Sasha's wigs in the early days. Even though they both gravitated to other women as best friends—Becky to Charlotte, Sasha to Bayley—they had recognized each other as wolves almost instantly. Running together came at the next full moon. Before long they were making out in the locker room, sharing hotel suites, and generally giving Hunter a heart attack every week as he tried to make sure their increasingly intimate antics weren't caught on camera. 

"Seth doesn't know what he's missing," Sasha says during a pause for breath. Then her tongue is back to its teasing, making Becky's hips arch up high enough that Sasha has to gently restrain them.

This is Sasha's newest strategy: mentioning Seth when Becky is at the brink. Maybe she thinks Becky will have some sort of Pavlovian reaction, associating Seth with sex, but it just makes Becky think back to the third time they fucked. It had been just days before a full moon and Sasha mentioned two things which made Becky temporarily—and uncharacteristically—speechless: Seth Rollins, then on the main roster as part of The Shield, was also a werewolf, and Sasha was involved with him as well.

Becky had known who Seth was, of course. After a moment where insecurity, nervousness, and yes, a hefty dose of attraction had clouded her judgement, she spent almost an hour talking to him when they first met, and somehow she didn't get the slightest sense that he was anything but human. Sasha assured her it was because he didn't grow up in a family of werewolves like they both did, but it didn't make Becky feel any less foolish—or flustered. Now Seth is a friend—a close one, and a loyal packmate too—and that should make it easier to quash any feelings she might have for him. With each full moon, though, the attraction is getting more and more difficult to resist. As she clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream as her climax hits, Becky still feels a pang of guilt for thinking about him while she's with Sasha, but it's like a lighthouse on some far-flung rock battered from all sides until it's lost in the waves.

"I'm going to go check on Seth," Sasha says as the initial rush from Becky's orgasm just starts to fade. She's still sprawled between Becky's legs, running her chin back and forth over her hip. The lines from Sasha's nails are just starting to fade on Becky's thighs, and that's more due to werewolf healing than any lack of vigour on Sasha's part. "Wanna come with?"

_Wanna come with?_ The invitation is there. It's always there—always more than those innocent words—and Becky knows it, which makes resisting even harder. As soon as Sasha had revealed that she was sleeping with Seth, she made it very clear that Becky was welcome to join in. Seth never came right out and said anything, but it was obvious that he would be fine with it too. Becky is the one keeping the triangle from closing, and that's been her position for so long now that she isn't even sure how to change her own mind. "No." Becky forces herself to sit up, leaning back against the headboard and crossing her legs so Sasha can't try to weaken her resolve. "You two go have fun," she adds, barely able to hide her flinch. Even to her own ears, she sounds like an old woman getting ready for an early night in. 

Sighing, Sasha curls up beside her, resting her head on Becky's thigh. "It would be more fun with you. C'mon, Becks. What's wrong? What's holding you back? You know Seth's into it. I've wanted it from the start. And you like Seth, so. . . ."

"Seth's my friend." Becky clenches her jaw so tightly it almost hurts, and her blush feels like a fire building under her cheekbones. Before Sasha can protest, she adds, "I know we're friends too. But we also started out with . . . this." She gestures around their shared suite. _Hiding in plain sight, indeed._ Since they're friends and wrestling as a tag team, no one thinks twice about them sharing a suite; lots of teams room together to save some money on the road. "Seth and I have been friends—just friends—for too long now. It would be awkward."

Sasha shakes her head against Becky's thigh. "It'll only be awkward if you make it awkward, Becks. Honestly." Then she pauses, threading her fingers with Becky's. "You can start out slow. Just with Seth, if you want to. It doesn't have to be all three of us right away."

Becky moves subtly to the side, grabbing a glass of water from the bedside table. That last orgasm was exhausting, almost a workout in its own right, and her mind is still far too hazy to think clearly. "Go have fun with Seth," she says simply. "If you both want to bring in a third, go for it." Back when Sasha revealed her relationship with Seth, she had apologized for not saying something right away, but Becky forgave her easily; since then all three of them agreed to tell the others if they're involved with anyone else. When Becky had briefly dated a human a few months ago, she didn't remember Seth having much of a reaction at all.

"We don't want _a third_." Sitting up, Sasha cups Becky's face and kisses her softly. "We want _you_."

"Sash. . . ." Becky sets the glass back on the table, using the moment to choose her words. "You two have your own thing. And I'm fine with that. Don't feel like you have to try including me, okay?" It's easier to say than _If Seth were really interested, why doesn't he ever say anything to me?_ Sasha will have a dozen replies to that, and Becky's not up to hearing any of them. When Sasha tries to protest, Becky leans in and kisses her again. "Go. I think I owe Charlotte a phone call anyway, so I'll do that while you're gone." 

Sasha sighs, but she doesn't push it. To her credit, she never does. She just kisses Becky softly and eases off the bed. Rather than getting fully dressed, she just steps into her dress and shoves her bra and panties into her purse. Her hand lingers on the doorknob, though, and she glances back at Becky, who's already reaching for her phone. "Are you sure?" She always asks again before she leaves. Just like Becky, she knows what it's like to be on the outside, to be the one not chosen.

"I'm good." Becky's answer is always some variation of that— _Yeah, go ahead, I'm sure_ —but it also always used to be true. Lately she's not so sure. One day the invitations will stop; she can't expect them to keep offering, which will leave it up to her to ask. She has one of the most colourful vocabularies she knows of, but even she's not sure she has the words for what she needs to say.


	2. Chapter 2

The click of high heels, then a pause. A quick zip and then a swish, followed by a long electric _beeeep_. Seth knows all the sounds by now. Whenever he checks in at a hotel, he always gets two keycards, usually accompanied by The Look from the desk clerk. Hotel staff are used to wrestlers hooking up with locals, so the clerks generally assume the second key is for Seth to hand out to some lucky fan plucked out of the crowd by a security guard, but he hasn't done that in years. Now it goes to Sasha for convenience's sake.

He also knows what he _hasn't_ heard. That distinctive laugh. The low, almost sardonic voice. Becky isn't joining them. Again.

"Hey." Sasha's voice is low but light as she ducks into the room, shutting the door behind her. He always leaves the entry table clear for her so all her things can stay together; they've had too many close calls not to be prepared. She sets the keycard on the table—they're off to another city tomorrow, so she won't need it again—and then her purse as she slides off her heels. Her dress drops to the floor in a second, making Seth think of how quickly she can turn from woman to wolf; this transformation isn't much different, going from friend to lover in the space of a breath.

Then she's on the bed, straddling his thighs, but he catches her hands before they can pull the sheet down. "No Becky?" If he asked any other lover why another woman wasn't there, it would probably earn him a slap to the face, but he knows Sasha understands. She wants it as much as he does, for their little pack to be more than just full-moon nights and shared runs.

Sasha shakes her head, sending her hair tumbling over her shoulders. "I tried." She runs her hands up Seth's chest as she leans down to kiss him, and he catches hints of Becky's scent in her hair, on her neck. "I always do."

Wrapping his arms around Sasha, Seth nuzzles her neck. There's something about the way her scent combines with Becky's that both drives him crazy and makes him calm all at once. "I know." He doesn't understand any of it, but he knows. When he and Sasha first discovered each other's true natures, they could hardly keep their hands off each other, so when Becky arrived at NXT and Sasha told him that she was a werewolf as well, he expected much the same. They're incredible friends—probably even closer than he and Sasha are, now—but aside from a few curious looks, Becky's never given any indication of wanting to take things further. "I just wish I knew why. Have I . . . upset her or something?"

"Why don't _you_ ask her?" Since Sasha's hands are pushing the sheet down and she's pressing herself right against his cock—warm and wet and he can't help but wonder if Becky's scent is there too—it takes him a moment to realize the emphasis in the question isn't where she normally puts it. This is as much a part of their routine as the sex is, in a way.

"Because. . . ." Seth grabs Sasha's ass with both hands to slow her down. "Because if I'm the problem, then I'm the last person she'll want to talk to about it." He catches Sasha's mouth in a long kiss, but it feels strangely fleeting; both their minds are elsewhere.

"And maybe you're the _only_ person she needs to talk to about it." Sasha breaks off the kiss with a small sigh, reaching down between them. Their bodies fit together so naturally now that it doesn't surprise Seth how easily she grabs his cock and settles down on it. "It'll mean more if she hears it from you," Sasha adds. "From me, it just sounds like her bestie trying to include her, you know? Making sure she doesn't feel left out."

Seth manages a small laugh. Sex is such a reflexive, almost instinctual thing for them now that unless it's a full-moon night or they're delving deep into their kinks, they can have a conversation almost all the way through. He thought it was weird at first and wondered if Sasha was getting bored with him, but he eventually learned to see it as a compliment. "We're talking about _sex_ , Sash, not going to a movie or out for drinks. . . ."

Sasha stretches out over him, curling her arms around his head so her hair falls like a curtain around them both. "Same thing." She stops talking for a few moments, moaning softly as she adjusts her rhythm to suit her new position. "You're the one who wants to fuck her," she points out simply. "So you should really be the one to ask." She kisses him and smiles, curving his lips along with hers. Without the emotion behind it, though, his mouth quickly goes slack again. "I wanted to, so I asked. And she said yes. Simple."

_Simple._ Seth could only wish. Nothing about his feelings for Becky has ever been simple. From her long introductory ramble about her life to her questionable puns, there's nothing about her he doesn't adore—except maybe her love of mint chocolate—but there's something in his head that just won't let him take that necessary leap. "It's different when you have a dick." It's a pathetic excuse and he knows it, but it's part of his hesitation all the same. Becky and Sasha can fuck all they like with relatively few worries. One slip on his part, though, and either woman might get pregnant, bringing their career to a screeching halt.

Sitting up, Sasha rises just enough to show Seth his cock, still half buried inside her. "We make it work." Werewolf fertility was one of several things Seth learned about from Sasha, since he hadn't grown up in a family pack. "Do you want to fuck her?"

Groaning as much from pleasure as exasperation, Seth shuts his eyes. "Yes." Talking during sex is one thing; talking about fucking one woman while being ridden by another is something else entirely, and Seth doesn't think it will ever feel normal. It feels disrespectful to both of them: Sasha because she's there with him, and Becky because she's not. "You know I do."

"What do you want to do with her?" The question takes Seth by surprise, but Sasha keeps on, her hips moving faster now. "If Becky said she'd fuck you, but only once, what position would you pick?"

" _Fuck_ , Sasha." Seth curls his hands around her thighs, as much to anchor himself as to make her gasp. "I don't know—"

"I think I topped our first time, didn't I?" Sasha throws her head back and laughs with delight before leaning in close again, nipping gently at his neck. The bed is starting to squeak loud enough to annoy them both, so she slows down a bit. "In the men's locker room on a bench." She has to stop to let out a long hiss of breath when Seth digs his fingers into her ass. "We finished just before Cena came in, and I had to hide in a locker until he left. Of course that was the day he wanted to give you some stupid motivational speech. I thought he was never going to shut up—"

"Are _you?_ " Seth growls, starting to thrust up into her. The more Sasha talks, the harder it gets not to think of Becky. Would Becky laugh during sex? He thinks so; he knows she's ticklish, at least. He imagines her hands curling around his shoulders, soft Irish curses falling from her lips as she spreads her legs wider—

"No. You'd want to be on top." It takes Seth a moment to realize Sasha is still talking, still teasing even as she's biting down on one of his nipples. "From behind, maybe? So you could bite her?" She slides a hand around the back of his neck and digs her nails in hard.

" _Sasha._ " His warning tone does nothing, so after a few more moments of her teasing, Seth flips her onto her back and takes over, thrusting hard enough to make the bed frame almost as loud as she is. When she comes, she arches up against him and lets out a breathy shriek that almost makes his resolve shatter. He manages to hold off for a few moments longer and then his hands are grabbing at the sheets; sex with a fellow werewolf almost feels like shifting, the orgasm like that sweet singing moment where the last of his humanness falls away and there's only energy and hunger waiting to be cloaked in fur. Panting, Seth sprawls out beside her, draping an arm over her hips. She won't be in a hurry to leave; she may hop right out of bed with Becky to go to him, but Sasha never does the same to Becky. He's not sure if it's out of respect or some sense of shame. "Fuck, I needed that."

Sasha's laugh is shaky; she still hasn't caught her breath yet. "I could tell." She moves down to lick him clean before kissing her way back up his chest, where she rests her head. "You should really talk to her," she murmurs right over his heart.

"Sash. . . ." Seth shakes his head and shuts his eyes, trying to focus on the moment: the delicious rush of the orgasm just starting to fade, Sasha warm beside him, the promise of the upcoming full moon like a second pulse. "Maybe she just doesn't want to, okay? And that's . . . fine. I mean, it sucks for me, but it's fine. Just because we're both werewolves doesn't mean anything."

"You two are such good friends. You train together. You travel together. And yet you can't talk about this one simple little thing? I don't get it." Reaching up to stroke his beard, Sasha kisses Seth before she sits up. "She was going to call Charlotte, so I should give her a few more minutes. Can I use your shower quick?"

Seth nods vaguely, too comfortable to move much. Everything Sasha said twists like a knife in his gut. He considers Becky one of his closest friends; they've talked each other through break-ups and other troubles, and she's fallen asleep on him during more than one long flight, but cuddling seems to be as close as she'll get. The sound of the shower is like thunder roiling through his thoughts, with Sasha's singing bright bolts of lightning, but neither is enough to coax him to move. When Sasha returns to the bedroom and grabs a pair of panties from her purse, he spares a thought to wonder why she needs them for the short walk back to the suite she shares with Becky, but otherwise his brain is still steeped in a cozy fog. "Wish her sweet dreams for me," he murmurs as Sasha leans over to kiss him goodnight. The neckline of her dress gapes, offering a lovely view, and he knows he could pull her back onto the bed and she would likely accept, but it's not fair for Becky to spend the night alone just because he's an angsty mess.

"Tell her yourself." Sasha grabs his phone and tosses it onto his chest. After she makes sure she has all her things, she shoots him a grin and heads out into the hall. Then there's the click of heels again, fading to silence in a few moments, just like Seth's resolve as he sets his phone aside.


	3. Chapter 3

So many people call the Four Horsewomen a sisterhood, but Sasha's not sure how accurate that is anymore. Bayley is still her best friend and Becky is so many things to her, but ever since Charlotte found out that Becky and Sasha were sleeping together, she became a bit distant. At first, Sasha thought it was typical best friend protectiveness: she wanted to make sure Sasha wasn't going to break Becky's heart. Almost a year later, it should be obvious that Sasha has no intentions of hurting Becky, but Charlotte still doesn't seem convinced—and never fails to tell Sasha at any given opportunity.

When Sasha sees Charlotte coming down the hallway, she swears under her breath. _I should have left Seth earlier,_ she thinks. Not that she would have; she doesn't like to rush with either of her lovers. _Maybe if Charlotte knew—_ She doesn't even let herself finish the thought. She and Becky have discussed telling the other Horsewomen that they're werewolves, just like Seth considered telling his Shield brothers, but ultimately they all decided against it. There may be strength in numbers, but for a secret, there's more safety in scarcity. Sparing a quick look down at her dress to make sure it's not too rumpled, Sasha deploys her brightest smile. "Hey, Charlie. Did Becks get in touch with you? She said she wanted to call you—"

"She told you that before you went off to ride Rollins's dick, did she?" Charlotte's gaze is icy. While the trio's werewolf status is still secret, most of the wrestlers know Sasha's involved with both Seth and Becky. Considering how many flings and hook-ups happen on the road, no one else really has room to judge. "At least one of us takes the time to talk to her."

If it were the night before the full moon, Sasha would have to excuse herself so she didn't rip Charlotte's head off. Since she has a few days to spare, she unsheathes a sharp smile instead of her claws. "Oh, Becky and I talk all the time—when our mouths aren't elsewhere." Taking a step closer, she leans in and adds, "Jealous that you missed your chance? But you've had . . . what is it now? Eight titles? Ten? That's nice too, I guess. Between the two, I know which I'd pick. Every single time."

Hoping she wasn't loud enough for Becky to overhear, Sasha walks away, reaching their shared suite in a few long strides. The cardlock is still beeping when she enters, drowning out the first part of Becky's welcome—but she catches enough. "She means well," Becky finishes. She's already curled up in bed, but she turns onto her side so she can see Sasha over the pile of blankets.

Sasha shakes her head. "Don't get up. I know you're warm." Strangely, this is what she thinks Seth would like the most about spending nights with Becky. He'd love the sex, of course, but Sasha's never known anyone who cuddles quite as well as Becky does. She always burrows in, snuggling up close, and feeling Becky smile against her shoulder is one of Sasha's favourite things in the world. Since she's safely in their suite, she lets her purse and dress fall where they may and kicks her shoes towards the door before peeling off her panties and climbing onto bed. Becky starts to switch positions again so they can spoon, but Sasha grabs her hip before she can flip over. "Did Seth text you?"

A wave of wistfulness washes over Becky's face, there and then gone, and she shakes her head, forcing herself to meet Sasha's gaze. "No. Was he supposed to?" The forced brightness in her voice feels like sandpaper in Sasha's ears. Before she can reply, Becky's tone evens out a bit as she adds, "You didn't have to shower before coming back, you know."

"I know." Sasha reaches over and pulls one of Becky's curls down into her face, making it bounce a bit before smoothing it back. Part of her hopes that by bringing some of Seth back with her—sometimes his personal scent, this time his soap—Becky will want to come along next time, but so far the theory hasn't worked. "My little bae-wolf," Sasha sighs, tracing the curve of Becky's cheeks when she smiles at the pun. "We missed you." Can you miss something you've never had? Sasha thinks so; maybe she's simply wondered and dreamed about it so often that it feels real.

Becky could argue the point, but she never does. "You can stay with him, you know. Whenever you want to. I don't mind. And then he'll feel less like a sex toy." Even Becky laughs at that, though it's softer than her usual chuckle. Once most of the other wrestlers knew Sasha was sleeping with both Seth and Becky, a few of the guys started calling Seth 'Sasha's sex toy'. Mercifully it didn't catch on, but it still comes up from time to time. She doesn't want either of her lovers to be hurt, but if one of them had to be the butt of a joke, Sasha's glad it was Seth and not Becky. The women's division still isn't taken as seriously as it should be, and every slight and slam against it makes progress more difficult; Seth's already had to rebound from a leaked photo scandal, but neither of the women wouldn't be so fortunate.

"I know. But I wanted to be here with you." When Becky starts to to speak again, Sasha leans in and kisses her into silence. Becky's insecurities seem to flare at night, and no amount of reassurance can settle them. Kisses do, though, and gentle touches, and Sasha uses both to help put Becky at ease.

"Thank you." Becky's voice softens, her accent stretching out the vowels like taffy, and it's one of Sasha's favourite things to hear, that unbidden Irishness coming out. She loves knowing that she's one of the few who can bring it forth; whenever they're having sex and Becky starts murmuring in Irish against her skin, Sasha's heart skips a beat. Let Charlotte have all the titles, all the firsts; Sasha has Becky's heart, and that's something much harder to win, let alone keep. "We should get some sleep," Becky whispers, even though one of her hands is curled around Sasha's hip. "That meet and greet tomorrow is pretty early."

Sleep isn't what either one of them really wants or needs and they both know it. They haven't lived for years on the road without learning how to make do on not enough sleep and too much caffeine, and while it's a risk to push themselves too far so close to a full moon, they know their limits. "You still look pretty awake, though," Sasha teases, pushing Becky onto her back and tugging her panties down. "I need to tire you out." Once she has the panties off, she tosses them to the floor. "Why do you ever bother wearing anything to bed?" It's another question she always asks, mostly because she loves hearing the answers Becky comes up with, ranging from the hilarious to the horny.

"Because _I_ need to tire _you_ out." Becky's chuckle turns to a sigh as Sasha pushes her tank top over her breasts.

"Well, if we want to get any sleep tonight," Sasha replies, placing her first kiss on Becky's collarbone and working her way down, "then we'd better get started." Part of her feels like she should advocate harder for Seth, but a louder voice says that's his job, not hers. It's not her fault Seth hasn't made his move or that Charlotte can't see past her ego. Sasha knew from the start what she wanted and she went for it—and as the first delicious words of Irish start falling from Becky's lips, she's silently, selfishly happy that she doesn't have to share. At least not yet.


	4. Chapter 4

Becky never used to dread the full moon. Growing up, it was like having a family reunion every month, gathering with aunts and uncles and cousins and running in the countryside, happy and free. Now it's a ping on her phone, a highlighted day on the schedule, yet another excuse she has to make up to keep herself out of Seth's bed. The scheduling has become second nature, but she doesn't think resisting her feelings is ever going to get easier.

It doesn't help that virtually everyone backstage knows that she, Sasha, and Seth are an open triangle—even though they're more of an arrow, with Sasha at the tip. Most of them seem to assume she and Seth are already fucking. She's heard all the whispered remarks, ranging from the incredulous ( _I can't even get ONE of the girls on the roster to sleep with me. How'd Rollins get TWO?_ ) to the insulting ( _I didn't think Sasha or Becky were THAT stupid. Didn't they see those pictures? Guess we know what to expect in six months, huh?_ ) and of course the salacious. Some don't even bother to whisper. Career-wise, they're all at a point where WWE has too much invested in them to cast them aside if there happened to be a leak or virulent rumour, but Becky doesn't place a lot of confidence in good will.

"Hi, bae-bae." Just like that, Sasha dashes up alongside her and slings an arm around Becky's waist. "One more night!" To Sasha, full-moon nights are like celebrating Christmas once a month, and Becky wishes she still felt the same. "I was looking online and there's some cabins to rent not far from where we want to go." She snuggles closer, letting her fingers dip under Becky's waistband. "And when I called, they said it's pretty much the off-season, so nothing's booked. They were stoked to get any interestl." After the New Day walk past them, Big E shaking a finger at Sasha while grinning devilishly, she kisses Becky's cheek and adds, "so we won't have to worry about where to leave our clothes. We could even stay the night if we wanted."

_Stay the night._ Just the thought makes Becky's heart spin. It's easier to convince herself not to get involved with Seth when there are a bunch of doors and walls and other people in the way. Out in the wilderness, in a small cabin with just the three of them, most of her excuses will be stripped away. "Are you sure it's safe?" Once again she feels like a killjoy. "If they know we're famous, they could put up cameras. There could be cameras for security anyway, or wildlife-tracking equipment. And if they get any proof of us shifting. . . ." Footage of sex would be bad too, even just nudity, but if any of them were caught on camera shifting from human to wolf or back again, the ramifications would be dire—not just for them, but for their families as well.

Sasha narrows her eyes; she can tell when Becky's trying to wriggle out of something. "It's out in the middle of nowhere, Becks. It'll be fine. We can sniff around before if you want; we'd be able to tell if there was any recent human activity or electrical signals."

"True." Becky tries to sound enthusiastic, or at least convincing, but her voice sounds flat even to her. Anxiety sits like a stone in her gut, heavy and hard. "I'll have to make sure my phone's charged up so I can go hiking and take some pictures while you and Seth—"

"No." Sasha doesn't let her finish. Without even looking to see who's around, Sasha brings them both to a halt and presses Becky against the wall, kissing her roughly. "Becky. . . ." Stepping back, she cups both sides of Becky's face so she has no choice but to look at her. "We're a pack," Sasha whispers, voice thickening. "We need to talk about . . . whatever's going on with you and Seth."

Becky glances to either side, desperately hoping the New Day will return, that _anyone_ —anyone but Seth, that is—will wander by and give her an excuse not to reply. The nearest person is at the far end of the corridor, though, and probably wouldn't be able to hear them even if they were shouting. "Nothing's going on." She knows exactly what Sasha meant, but the longer she can hold off on answering, the more time she has to think.

Snorting softly, Sasha steps back and shakes her head. "You know what I mean. What's holding you back? You know he likes you. He knows this is all casual. . . ."

_You just answered your own question._ But Becky doesn't dare say that out loud. It's different for Sasha, who's engaged to a wonderful human guy who understands that what Sasha has with Seth—and even Becky, to a large degree—is all about them being werewolves. Becky, on the other hand, doesn't want to have half a dozen different categories of relationships; having Sasha as a friend, a lover, and a packmate is enough of a tangle for her. She had a crush on Seth before she ever learned that he was a werewolf and mixing her pack and pleasure feels too risky, at least where feelings are involved. What she has with Sasha will never be more than what it is and she knows that; what she could have with Seth, however, doesn't have a spouse or partner to keep any limits in place, and that's a freedom Becky isn't sure she knows how to handle. "Maybe this is all the casual I can manage." As soon as Becky says it, though, she sees recognition flare in Sasha's eyes.

"Becks, if you. . . ." Sasha pauses as Dana Brooke jogs past, waving to them both. Then she leans in close, cupping the back of Becky's neck. "If you want more with him, I really don't think that would be a problem. . . ."

"What have I said about hallways, Banks?" Now Hunter is striding towards them, frowning slightly as he pulls a small keyring out of his pocket and tosses it to Becky. "My office is 152. I'm the only one with a key, so just . . . hurry up and get it out of your systems, okay? I need you both to focus tonight."

Sasha plucks the keys away from Becky before she can toss them back. "Thanks, Papa H," she says with a laugh. "Where do you want us to leave the keys?"

Hunter rolls his eyes as he continues on his way. "I'll be in Gorilla. Don't make a mess, okay?"

Becky waits until Hunter, still shaking his head, is out of earshot to reply. "Sash, let's just go get ready. This match is risky enough as is with the moon tomorrow—"

Jangling Hunter's keys in one hand, Sasha takes Becky's arm in the other and starts hurrying down the hallway, calling out room numbers as they pass. "I didn't think this place was big enough to have 152 rooms backstage, but—ha! Found it!" She opens the door quickly and pulls Becky inside; locking the door behind themselves is a reflex now, as is grabbing Becky's hips to push her up against the wall. "There's too much stuff on the desk," Sasha mutters before leaning in to kiss her. "There's the chair—"

"We're not fucking in Hunter's chair," Becky said firmly. "Remember what happened last time? He made you fight Lacey for a month straight and I had to lose to Lana twice in a row." It hadn't been enough of a deterrent to stop them from sneaking off again, though.

Sasha sighs. "That leaves the wall."

"Or we could just wait until we get back to the hotel. . . ." But Becky knows they won't. The teasing, the risk, the rush: it's all part of the appeal and, if she's honest with herself, part of what makes sex with Sasha feel safer than it would with Seth. She and Sasha can sneak away to the women's locker room if they absolutely had to—the other girls would give them space, or at least not cause problems for them. With Seth there would be a gravity to it tall hat she couldn't escape—and she's not sure if she would want to.

"We _could_ ," Sasha agrees slowly, moving closer to Becky and running a hand from her neck down to her navel. When she reaches the waistband of Becky's leggings, she slides one finger down lower, then another. Once her whole hand is pressing against Becky's belly, Sasha leans in to kiss her. "I don't want to, though. What about you?"

Becky lets out a long breath and shuts her eyes as Sasha's fingers move between her legs, slow and sly as if they have all the time in the world. But then Sasha has always made her feel that way. Even when they would try to steal five minutes away for a quickie, Sasha knew how to stretch out every second. "You know I don't."

"Good." 

They don't need words for the rest, just mouths and hands, and Becky's always a little surprised whenever she can make Sasha come first. Becky manages to stay mostly upright against the wall, but Sasha flops down in Hunter's chair after, making it spin lazily. "I'll leave first," Becky offers, though she doesn't know why they still bother with the charade. Almost everyone knows what they do before a match; it's their version of a pre-show routine, like Cesaro's stretches or R-Truth's raps. "You're taking the keys back?"

Sasha nods slowly, tilting her head back when Becky leans down to kiss her. "Whoever loses their match gets to top tonight."

Halfway out the door, Becky laughs. The quickie has swept aside the question of Seth for now, but she knows she can't avoid it forever. Packs don't revolve around sex, but they are built on unshakable trust, and as long as she has even the slightest reservation about Seth, every full moon will be fraught with tension, and that's more exhausting—and dangerous—than any transformation.


	5. Chapter 5

There's nothing like a full-moon night. Seth loves the full-moon days too, those energized hours just before as he counts down the minutes to when he can shift, but it all changes once he can actually see the moon in the sky, wide and wild. If it's a wrestling night, the guys in the locker room laugh at his pent-up energy. "Sasha better watch out tonight!" they joke or, if Hunter and Vince aren't around, they'll say something more explicit. Seth's tried telling them that it's the other way around, but no one believes him and he supposes it doesn't really matter. Better they think he's off having an orgy than realize he's a werewolf.

Since there's an event the next day, the three of them booked their hotel rooms for an extra night; Sasha found rental cabins in their chosen part of the forest and, after a little bit of bribery, made sure none of the closest cabins would be occupied. Seth doesn't think that was really necessary since it's out of season, but it doesn't hurt to be careful. They always keep their wallets and go-bags in the vehicle—and the keys hidden nearby—in case they ever need to make a hasty getaway, but so far the night is looking promising. There was no sign of any human activity for the last ten minutes of their drive in the forest, and the local ranger didn't seem to recognize them at all. _We all need a good long run,_ Seth thinks as he parks the SUV by the cabin.

"We're sure there aren't any wildlife cameras?" Becky asks as she hops out, tilting her head back to gaze up at the towering trees. "So many of the parks have nest cams and den cams now. . . ."

"You heard me ask the guy, Becks," Sasha replies, wrapping her arms around Becky from behind and kissing her neck. She asked under the guise of going on a wildlife walk, and the ranger said they would likely only see birds common to the region or perhaps hear a coyote. After kissing Becky again, she spins them both around and opens the door to their cabin. "First one to the lake picks where we have breakfast!" she crows, pulling her clothes off before she's even stepped inside. "Last one there pays!"

Seth glances at Becky, but she just shakes her head. Coming from a large werewolf family, she's used to the puppy-like exuberance that comes out at a full moon, but he still revels in it; it's one of the few things he and Becky share in the pack, one of the rare times she lets her guard down around him. They've talked about everything else, from embarrassing wrestling moments to break-ups to fitness tips, but as soon as the conversation turns to sex, Becky either gets quiet or changes the subject. When she notices Seth staring at her, she just shrugs. "It doesn't much matter to me where we eat," she says simply, peeling off her shirt. Sasha, now stripped to the skin, sprints past them, starting her shift as soon as she's outside. "As long as there's coffee, I'm good. If you have a preference, though," she adds with a grin, "you'd better hurry." She's not exactly taking her time and folding all her clothes, but it's clear she's not in a rush; she even takes a quick sip of water from the bottle they use to rinse off post-shift.

"Since I'm driving," Seth replies, "I'd better." It's a strange type of politeness, waiting until she's fully undressed before he leaves, but he does it out of habit now—for Sasha too, usually, when she hasn't put a dare into play. A naked woman in a forest is far more likely to encounter trouble than a man would be, so he waits until she's undressed and outside, crouching down to begin her transformation. Then he rushes through his own, wincing as his body breaks and rebuilds itself anew.

Once he's done, he pads over to Becky, who's taking her time. "I'm good. Go on. I'm surprised Sasha hasn't called us yet." Smiling, Becky strokes his ears while she still has hands to do so, then bows her head as she begins to shift in earnest.

Seth waits a moment more before tearing through the forest, running so fast his paws barely seem to hit the ground. Branches brush against his flank—strong ones bending, weaker ones snapping in his wake—and he's so focussed on the shimmer of water ahead that he doesn't notice the glint right in front of him until it's too late and it jerks him to an abrupt halt.

_Seth!_ Becky's worried yip is almost drowned out by his painful howls and the sound of his thrashing, but he hears enough for it to pierce straight through to his heart. Moments later she's crashing through the underbrush, nose high as she sniffs for any potential threats or traps. Then she hurries over, placing her two front paws on his heaving body and gently clamping her mouth down over his. _Stop._ Though she makes no other sound, her message is clear, and she waits until Seth stops struggling to move back. _Wait,_ she says with a short but firm bark.

When she crouches down, it takes Seth a moment to think past the pain and panic and realize what she's doing. To shift forms again so quickly is incredibly difficult, not to mention dreadfully painful—leaving a werewolf weakened and vulnerable—but there she is, her body quaking as she tries to revert to human form. Her body seems to jerk back and forth between wolf and woman, woman and wolf, sometimes caught in agonizing stages in between: a wolf with human arms, a human torso with lupine legs. _Stop!_ The glinting thing around his neck is stealing his air, leaving his plea a mere whimper. _Stop it, Becky!_

With one final wrenching sob, Becky's in her human form again, sprawled on the forest floor and covered in smears of blood and some clear, sticky plasma. When she lurches to her feet, it reminds Seth of videos of newborn horses he saw in school, all bumbling angles and no balance. "Stop . . . moving." Those two words make her breath catch and Becky stumbles against the nearest tree, shaking uncontrollably. Then she clenches her eyes tight, balls her hands into fists as if trying to gather courage, and sucks in a deep breath. "SASHA!"

The effort makes her crash to her knees, and Becky crawls the rest of the way to where Seth's trapped. As soon as she has enough air, she screams Sasha's name again, almost collapsing against Seth's side. When he feels movement at his neck, Seth starts to squirm until Becky leans into him. _Hurt_ , he whines. _You'll hurt_. She's trying to get her fingers under the snare—he finally figured out what it was—but if the cruel metal is hurting him, it will mangle her fragile human fingers.

She's not stopping, though, burrowing her hands into his blood-matted fur. "SASHA! COME BACK!" Tears are cascading down her cheeks now and she rubs her face against his to clear her eyes. "I'm sorry," she blubbers, shoulders quaking with cold and shock. "I'm sorry. I . . . I can't break it on my own. I don't have my strength back yet. I should have tried to bite it off or. . . ."

Seth tries to lick some of her tears away, making a sobbing laugh burst out of her mouth. Right now she'll be even weaker than a normal human, and she's still trying to loosen the snare. _Stop now?_ There's too much pressure on his throat to form the sound for _please_ , so he hopes gently butting his head against hers will convey the message.

But Becky just shakes her head, keeping her fingers between his ravaged neck and the snare. Her shaking is fuelled by adrenaline now as well, making her lungs stutter. "Don't struggle," she murmurs by his ear. "It'll make it tighten up." She's trying to stay as still as she can, but the shock and cold are getting the better of her. "SASHA! HE'S HURT!"

It's as close to a howl as Seth has ever heard from a human mouth and it wraps around his heart even tighter than the snare could, closing in every second. He's trying to think of the right combination of yips and howls to convey _Go find her; I'll be okay_. Part of him thinks he should revert to human form: his neck would be narrower and then he could use his hands to keep the snare from tightening any further.

Becky must sense his train of thought, because she shakes her head, curling up closer to his heaving side. "You can't turn back yet," she rasps. "It's not safe. You would move around too much during the shift and it would tighten—" She tenses a moment as his ears prick up. If it's anyone—or anything—other than Sasha, she'll have to let go of the snare and try to defend herself.

But Sasha's night-dark fur catches the moonlight as she rushes toward them, and Becky's shakes finally start to ebb. "You'll be okay," she whispers, kissing his head. "Sasha can help."

_You help,_ Seth thinks as he watches Sasha try to hasten her return to human form without suffering the same discomfort Becky did. If Becky hadn't lingered and hesitated as always, he could still be struggling in the snare—or worse. Sasha's transformation isn't much more graceful than Becky's had been, but rather than listen to the crunch of bone and the agonized cries, Seth does his best to focus on the beat of Becky's heart. It's finally starting to slow but it's still tinged with the moon-silvered sweetness of the transformation and odd, tender lurch that feels far too familiar—and yet somehow alien for being outside his own chest.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything's a blur, from shifting back into human form to helping Becky get Seth free of the snare to hauling him to safety. "Come back," Sasha whispers into his ear as they try to spur on his return to human form. "We need to get you to a doctor, not a veterinarian." She feels like she's fighting the air with every step, but she and Becky manage to get Seth back to the cabin. Once he's twitching on the ground, trying to shift back, Sasha finally lets herself check on Becky. She's shaking—with cold and worry and the ghosts of adrenaline—but her eyes are starting to clear. "Go clean up," she urges her. "I'll watch over him until you're done." A violent shiver makes her shoulders jerk and she knows if she's not careful, she'll be as jittery as Becky is. "Don't use too much water."

"Okay. Okay." Becky nods jerkily, grabbing the water bottle they left inside the cabin and dousing one of the old towels they always bring. It's no substitute for a shower, but they only need to be presentable at the hospital, not gorgeous. "Did I miss anything?"

Sasha stands slowly, keeping an eye on Seth. He's howling in agony, but his limbs are finally starting to transform. "Just your back. Here." She holds her hand out for the towel and wipes the spots Becky can't reach on her own. "Put your hair up." Her voice feels cold, distant, but it's the only way she can focus at the moment.

"Thank you, Sasha." Becky moves to hug her but stops, since they don't have enough water to spare for a second sponge bath for any of them. She kisses Sasha on the cheek instead. "I won't be long."

_Why are you thanking me?_ Sasha thinks, guilt lancing through her. She should have been there. If she had been there earlier, Seth's neck wouldn't be a bloody ruin, but she had to try turning the night into a game, hoping it would draw Becky out of her shell or compel Seth to make a move. _Now she's probably traumatized and she'll feel guilty and avoid Seth even more._

Becky must have practically jumped into her clothes, because she's back outside in less than a minute, kneeling beside Seth. "I'll pack up everything after—"

"Don't worry about it." Sasha kisses her head before lurching to her feet and heading to the cabin. "We can come back later and clean up." By the time she's done wiping herself down and getting Becky to check for any spots she missed, Seth has finally completed his transformation and is sprawled in the dirt. Deep gouges in his neck and left shoulder are oozing blood. "Do you want help cleaning him up?" Sasha asks, handing Becky the water bottle and the towel.

Becky looks like she wants to say yes or offer to do absolutely anything else, but she shakes her head. "No time. Go get dressed. Throw his clothes out on the step."

"Okay." It doesn't take Sasha long to pull on her clothes—on full-moon nights, they always dress in loose clothing to make it easier for their fumbling fingers—but she watches through the open door as Becky helps Seth sit and cautiously cleans him up, paying special attention to his wound. Between backstage busyness and werewolf runs, they've all seen each other naked hundreds of times now, but Becky still blushes a bit whenever she sees Seth unclothed. Sasha doubts he's noticed. By the time Sasha steps out of the cabin, Becky's helping Seth step into his workout shorts. "That'll do," Sasha says briskly, tossing his shirt into the cabin along with the now-bloodied towel and empty water bottle before shutting the door. "We need to get to a hospital. That wound's not closing up fast enough. There could have been poison on the snare too." She spares a glance at Becky's sliced hands and then her own. Werewolf healing has helped a bit; a stranger—a human one, anyway—would probably figure they were out gathering firewood and scraped their hands. "Give him some serum after we get in the SUV. We should take some too, but we can do that when we get there."

"You're driving?" Becky pales a bit. Between finding Seth, struggling with the snare, and cleaning him up, her comfort threshold has been utterly demolished. 

"We want to get there in one piece, Becks," Sasha says softly, taking a moment to kiss her; even Becky's lips are quivering with nervous energy. "Sit in the back with him and keep pressure on his wound." Then she grabs the keys and heads for the back of the SUV. Their go-bags contain obvious things, like extra clothes and water, towels and snacks, but also a serum which makes their blood mimic human biology when tested. His wound is still bleeding, which is a mixed blessing: the mess will mask some of the healing, which would be difficult to explain.

"Okay." Becky almost sounds like she's in shock, but she helps Seth into the back seat—an unusual spot for him, since he usually insists on driving—before getting in herself. 

Before she can protest, Sasha hands her some syringes and a clean towel, then pushes on Seth's uninjured shoulder until his head is on Becky's lap. "Keep pressure on his wound," Sasha reminds her gently, "but not too much. Some blood will make it look more natural." Then she shakes her head as she walks around to the driver's side. "Damn ranger never said anything about snares and traps." The frustration is really with herself, though. She was the first one out in the forest. Why hadn't she smelled the danger? Even if she had taken a different path than Seth did, she should have noticed the foreign tang of metal amongst all the rich, wonderful earthiness of the forest.

"They were set at coyote height," Becky replies absently, uncapping a syringe and tucking the plastic lid in a cup holder. The last thing they need is a drug rumour fuelled by the remains of a syringe found in their vehicle. "He probably didn't think it would be an issue. Uh, Seth, where do you—" The end of her question is cut off when Sasha guns the engine and heads for the main road out of the forest. 

"Ass is fastest," Sasha calls back. With Seth's head in Becky's lap, it would be too difficult to manage, but even with her worry at an all-time high, she can't resist a quick barb.

"Arm." Seth gamely holds out his good arm for Becky to use, and the injection hole closes up seconds after she withdraws the needle. As Becky folds the towel and presses it to the worst part of his wound, he glances up at her. "How bad?" His voice is garbled and wet, as if he has a mouthful of marbles.

Becky manages a weak smile. "It probably looks worse than it is. It's already trying to heal, but if the snare was set for coyote and was poisoned, that could affect us too." She opens the second syringe and jabs it into her arm. "Sash, we'll have to get his wallet—"

Sasha takes a hand off the wheel just long enough to point at the passenger seat. "I have it up here with me." Then she starts swearing as she jabs at the rental SUV's built-in GPS. Since Seth likes to drive the most, he usually picks out the vehicles and plays with the navigation settings. By the time they pass the ranger station, now dark and empty, she finally figured out how to get directions. "There's a medical facility about twenty minutes away," she reports, glancing back at Becky and Seth. Even though his long legs are probably contorted, Seth looks pretty comfortable with his head on Becky's lap. "Becks, you took your shot already?" The serum needs about twenty minutes to take effect, but it's not likely that either of them would get tested before Seth was.

"Yeah. I'm not feeling sick or anything, though, so maybe there was nothing on the snare." Becky fidgets a bit, though she's careful not to jar Seth's neck; she has one hand applying pressure to the wound on his neck and the other is stroking his hair so absently she probably doesn't even realize it.

Seth does, though. Sasha can tell by how steady his heartbeat is. It isn't the hollow thud of panic or the calmness of normalcy; it's the deep, warm surety of comfort, a rhythm that lulls her to sleep almost every night when she's curled up with Becky. She turns her attention back to the road before Becky can notice her soft smile. "Good," Sasha says, breathing a sigh of relief once more buildings start to appear on the side of the road; that means they're approaching civilization again. "You can give me my shot when we get there and I'll hide the syringes until we can destroy them. Seth, you doing okay?"

"Yeah." His voice sounds as awkward as Becky looks, but Seth doesn't move from her lap and Becky doesn't stop playing with his hair, and soon it's Sasha's heartbeat that's the most erratic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I'm not American and I know next to nothing about the American medical system, so... yeah. I'm sure I got a lot of things about the medical facility wrong. But since you're not reading this for medical accuracy, I think you can forgive me ;)

Panic could be like a prism. Once Becky got over the initial wave of fear—and kept herself steady through a twenty-minute car ride with Seth's head on her lap—she tried to turn the worry into _work_ , starting with giving Sasha her shot of serum once the SUV was parked. Then she tucked all the used syringes in an empty coffee cup so they wouldn't draw attention. The medical facility doesn't look busy, which is a blessing, but the fewer reasons people had to remember them, the better.

"I can go in with him," she offers, grabbing his fanny pack from the passenger seat and looping it over the same shoulder as her purse, "if you want to make sure everything's good here?" With her run cut so short, she's craving movement; even the relatively short car ride felt like an hour.

Sasha nods. "I think they have a needle drop-off station, but I don't trust it. I'll tidy up the back and be right in. Do you want a different towel?"

Seth steps out of the SUV and gingerly lowers the towel from his neck. The serum may make their blood chemistry appear human for a short while, but it also slows down their natural healing processes. "Nah. They won't want it for testing, and it'll make it look like the wound was more blood than anything." As they start to walk to the entrance, he glances down at Becky's hands, smeared with dried blood from the towel. "Did you want to clean up first? I can get myself checked in."

"I'm good." Becky doesn't want to lose her resolve now, not amongst humans and antiseptic smells. She hates hospitals at the best of times, let alone when she didn't get to have a proper run. "I'll have to run tomorrow or something," she adds, hoping she doesn't sound too terse, "but I should be able to fit in a workout before the event—"

"Let me see your hands." Seth keeps one hand pressing the towel against his neck, but his free one reaches for her nearest arm. Becky steps aside quickly, nearly colliding with the automatic door before urging him through. From their vantage point, the waiting area looks empty, so Seth stops just inside the doors. "Becky, please—"

The intake nurse looks up from the desk and smiles. "Good evening. How can we help?"

After shooting Becky a look, Seth steps forward. "We were camping and I went out for a hike and got caught in a snare." Becky's surprised he didn't even try to come up with a feasible lie, but the nurse doesn't seem to doubt his admission. "My girlfriend got it off as soon as she could. . . ."

Seth is still talking. The nurse is still listening, making notes and asking questions and telling Seth to move the towel aside so she can assess his wound. In the distance, an overhead speaker summons someone to the pharmacy area. And through it all Becky is frozen in place, her panic-fuelled resolve ebbing away. _Girlfriend?_ She's always thought it was a rather empty, juvenile word, but now it's crowding out all the other thoughts in her head. When the nurse motions to her in turn, it takes Becky a moment to realize she missed part of the conversation. "I'm sorry. Hearing difficulties." She taps her ear and gives the woman an apologetic smile. "Could you repeat that?"

"How are your hands?" The nurse holds her own hands out palms up. "Some of those snares the local hunters use can be nasty."

"Oh. Um. . . ." Becky gamely holds out her hands for inspection, glancing towards the entrance. What's taking Sasha so long? All they took out of the back was the syringes and their purses and Seth's fanny pack. "A little sore, but they're not bad. I was too worried about his neck."

"You're lucky you have a quick-thinking girlfriend," the nurse tells Seth as she settles back into her chair. "Some of those snares can break bones, so it won't hurt to do some scans. It's a quiet night—rare for a full moon," she adds with a weary laugh. Then she raps her knuckles on the desk as if warding off a jinx. "We should be able to get you in right away. What's your name, sir?"

Seth hesitates for a moment over his legal name, but so far the nurse has given no indication of recognizing them. While he's providing his information, Sasha finally enters and approaches the intake desk. "Sorry about that. The back hatch didn't want to close."

The nurse peers over the desk to look at Sasha's hands. "Did you help too? We should check you out as well. Just take a seat over there." She gestures at the empty waiting area. "Do you want your girlfriend listed as your emergency contact, Mr. Lopez?" she continues as Sasha leads Becky to the chairs.

" _Girlfriend._ " Sasha whispers the word, but it still looms large in Becky's head. "Did you say that or did he?"

"He didn't specify which one of us," Becky blurts out, keeping her voice low. "And it's just to make the process go faster. This way one of us can go in with him, get updates—"

Sasha sprawls so low in a chair, she's in danger of sliding off to the floor. "You mean _you_ can. Being his girlfriend and all." With a grin, she points at Seth's fanny pack, still over Becky's shoulder, and she laughs when Becky sets it down on the vacant seat beside her. "It suits you."

"I'm fine with my purse, thanks." Becky rubs her palms over her knees. With the serum inhibiting her healing, the cuts on her hands sting, but it gives her something to focus on.

"I didn't mean the fanny pack, Becks." Before she can continue, though, another nurse walks over. "Has he already been taken in?" Sasha asks her. From where they're sitting, they can't see Seth.

The nurse nods. "The doctor will probably want to do some scans, but there have been reports of poisoned traps in the area, so we should run blood tests on both of you as well. This way, please."

"He gave his real name," Becky whispers as she and Sasha follow the nurse down a long corridor. "So you'll need to use Mercedes." It's times like this that she's glad her ring name and her real one are related. Her thoughts are like dandelion seeds, scattering on a breath; she would have trouble remembering which name to give, and stress has probably thickened her accent too.

Nodding, Sasha passes her a small sandwich bag filled with sample-size bottles. "For washing up. We both have blood on us, and we won't want to use their soap."

"Oh. Thanks." Becky jams the bag in her purse and then dutifully follows the nurse's instructions, trying not to cringe when the nurse cleans her arm with an antiseptic wipe that, to a werewolf's sensitive nose, smells wretched enough to make her stomach heave. The needle itself doesn't bother her and she's careful to press on the cotton ball right away so the nurse doesn't see how quickly the hole begins to close. "Do you know how quickly the results will come back?" she asks as the nurse begins to prepare Sasha's arm. "We're only in the area for the weekend."

"We should get the results in about an hour. It's a common poison in these parts," the nurse explains, "so we we usually have to test a dozen or so people a week. Your boyfriend is going to get an x-ray to make sure there's no internal damage, so you should all be ready to go around the same time."

_Boyfriend_ , Sasha mouths at Becky when the nurse turns away to get a new vial.

Becky answers with two quickly flipped middle fingers. "Is there a bathroom where I could wash up?" She holds up all her fingers for inspection when the nurse glances her way. "The nurse at the desk said we should get our hands checked too. . . ."

"Of course. It's a quiet night, so we can put you all in the room. I think Nell put your boyfriend in Three." The nurse points down another hall. "It's about halfway down. There's a bathroom in there."

"Thanks." Becky stands and waves at Sasha before heading down the short corridor, stopping at a room that has _Lopez, C._ written on a dry-erase board on the door. A shower would be ideal, but even just getting the rest of the blood and sweat off her skin will help; a damp towel was enough to make her presentable, but not comfortable. There's no way to wash away the last of the adrenaline, though, or the sheer terror that seized her when she heard Seth's anguished howl or the way her heart feels like a glass veined with cracks, ready to shatter at any given moment.


	8. Chapter 8

Waking up in a strange bed is a given in Seth's world; he spends more time in hotel beds than his own. But it doesn't take him long to realize this is no luxury suite. There's a steady beep that's definitely not his alarm, everything is far too white, and the bed is too narrow and hard. _Between a rock and a hard place_ , he thinks, opening one eye and seeing that his right leg is pressed up against the safety railing of a hospital bed. _But it doesn't smell like a hospital. . . ._

Then he opens his other eye and turns a bit to his left, and everything makes sense. Becky has managed to sandwich herself between him and the other railing and is so deeply asleep that he wouldn't know she was even breathing if her face weren't pressed to his shoulder, her body curved around his side like a shield. Her left arm is stretched across his chest, fingers curled lightly in the thin sheet. _Her other arm is going to be so numb when she wakes up,_ he thinks absently, doing his best not to disturb her. Her breath ebbs and flows over his wound, and the rest of the story starts coming together. The run, the noose, the blood: Becky was frantically trying to help him out in the forest and she's still doing her best now, guarding his injury as best she can. She can't possibly be comfortable and he's not either, but in that moment, warm and content, he wouldn't move for all the world.

Seth can see three other beds in the room, the curtains between them all pulled back. Two of them are clearly assigned: the sheets are mussed on both, and some loose strands of Becky's tell-tale hair streaks across one of the pillows. He turns the slightest bit, only wanting to kiss the top of Becky's head, but her shoulders tense immediately. "Hey, hey." He reaches up with his free arm—the other is pinned beneath her, and just starting to wake—and grabs her elbow. "Nothing's wrong. But your feet are in the railing, so be careful when you move." Now that Becky's moved a bit, he can see one of her shoeless feet in between the bars; if she moves too suddenly, she could easily sprain or snap something.

"Sorry. Sorry." Becky rubs at her eyes before pointing towards the door. "Sasha went to make some calls," she says, the last word stretched out by a yawn, "and I . . . well, you weren't reacting well to whatever they gave you, so I wanted to keep an eye on you. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

As Seth pulls his hand away from Becky's arm, he flexes his fingers slowly. The serum that lets their systems mimic human physiology for short amounts of time has plenty of side effects, and most of them are magnified by a full moon. "Why did they give me anything?" he asks. Since Becky doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get up, he lets his free hand rest on her shoulder. "I thought I just needed an x-ray or something."

"You were. . . ." Becky's chuckle feels like sunshine against his shoulder and when she squirms a bit, Seth starts to prepare himself for the loss of her warmth, but she's only changing position, freeing her trapped arm and his. "Uncooperative, the nurses said. Probably a mixture of the serum and the moon," she adds, lowering her voice. "But the doctor said everything looks okay. There was no trace of poison, and you shouldn't have any scarring—"

"Because of you." Seth reaches for her hand on his chest and brings it up to his face. "What about you? How are your hands?" It wasn't just her warmth and her presence that helped him sleep, he realizes, but also her scent; she smells clean—but not clinical and sterile like the facility—and familiar. "No scars for you either?" Running his thumb over her palm, he can't feel any damage, but it takes him a few moments to stop regardless.

"No. Sasha and I are both good to go." The way she says Sasha's name is like invoking an element in a spell. "As soon as you feel clear-headed, we can—"

"Thank you." Seth brings her hand to his mouth again and echoes his gratitude against her palm. Watching her struggle between forms, risking her hands to help him, had hurt more than the snare ever could. "I should have—"

"Don't." For a moment, Seth's not sure what she means, but Becky makes no attempt to move her hand away. "You're okay and that's what matters."

Seth can feel her starting to retreat: her muscles are tensing up, her breathing is rapid, her fingers are twitching. He places a lingering kiss on her palm before letting go of her hand. "You'll still need to run. I can spot you—"

"I'll be fine." Then she's scrambling to sit up without touching him, gingerly easing her feet out from between the railings. There's not enough room for her to sit up unless she straddles him, though, so she ends up gripping his good shoulder for balance. "I'm glad you're okay," she says softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Then she swings a leg over the railing and steps on the visitor's chair beside the bed. Once she's off, she quickly jams her feet in her shoes and tucks the laces in. "Sasha will want to know that you're awake. I'll go find her." Before Seth can even draw a breath, she's at the door, out in the hallway, gone.

Less than a minute later, Sasha enters and glances around at the beds, looking confused. "Where's Becks?" Her phone dangles from her hand, screen dim.

Gripping the railings, Seth sits up slowly, feeling cold now that Becky's not cuddled up to him. He vaguely remembers not wearing a shirt to the hospital, but he's in a thin examination gown now. "She went to tell you I was awake—"

Sasha raises an eyebrow as she hops up on the bed next to his. "She was on _your bed_. Did you even try?"

It takes Seth a moment to clue in and as much as he would like to blame it on the drugs—on his injury, the lack of running, anything—he knows it's just him. Again. "Sasha, we're in a fucking hospital—"

"Medical facility," Sasha interjects, glancing down at her phone when she gets a notification. "That's Becks." She replies quickly and sets her phone aside. "So? You could have at least kissed her or something! If it wasn't for her, who knows what condition you'd be in?" She says the last with a combination of indignation and fear, hugging her arms around her middle. 

"I kissed her hand." Seth's face scrunches up as soon as he says it. It's stupid and he has nothing to prove to Sasha or anyone else, but now that Sasha's brought it up, he knows he missed out on a chance to let Becky know how he feels. _She would just say it was the drugs,_ he tells himself, but after hearing the anguish in her voice when she was screaming for Sasha to come back, he's not so sure about that.

"Oh, her hand! _Her hand!_ " Rolling her eyes, Sasha slides off the bed and goes over to his, wrapping him in a fierce hug. "Someone call Jane Austen. We have a _scandal_ in our midst."

Seth's just about to reply when Becky returns. "Sorry. Must have gone the wrong way. I told a nurse we were ready to go, and she's going to have the doctor come by to check Seth's neck before we leave." Then she grabs the keys from Sasha's purse. "He'll need a shirt, though. I'll go grab one. Be right back."

Sasha at least waits until Becky's gone to swear. "Maybe I should stop fucking both of you and then you'll come to your senses," she mutters, kissing Seth before going back to her bed and gathering her things and then Becky's. 

_SOMETHING has to stop,_ Seth thinks. Stop or start, one of the two, because it can't stay the way it is for much longer before someone in their little pack snaps.


	9. Chapter 9

During her turbulent teenage years, Sasha didn't have much to look forward to aside from her family, running as a wolf, and watching wrestling. Now she's in more matches than she watches—though she does still follow friends in other promotions—but the other two loves remain largely unchanged. The unspoken, unresolved tension between Becky and Seth is making full-moon nights as awkward as her runs during puberty were, however. For being two of the smartest people she knows, they seem to bring out the stupid in each other.

Seth is the first to suspect something when Sasha doesn't let Becky give him the keys. "I'm fine to drive, Sash. You heard the doctor." He's wearing the shirt Becky brought in from his go-bag, but he clearly hasn't updated his kit recently, because it fits tighter than he usually likes. He has a large gauze bandage on his neck, but once the serum wears off, his werewolf healing will kick back in and heal what remains of the wound.

Sasha shakes her head. "I checked out some of the back-up spots we found earlier. We all need at least ten minutes, or else we won't be safe to wrestle tomorrow." She lets Seth sit in the passenger seat, though, mostly so she doesn't have to see his puppy-dog eyes every time she looks in the rear-view mirror. "We'll scout out the area before we shift to make sure there aren't any people or traps, and I'll set an alarm on my phone. When it beeps, we come back and then we're heading to the hotel."

"What about all the stuff at the cabin?" Becky leans forward between the two front seats. "We have clothes there and there's Seth's blood—"

"I'll drop you both at the hotel and I'll go back to clean up," Sasha says flatly, hoping they'll both pick up on the terseness in her voice and drop the issue.

They're both on edge too, though, which doesn't help matters much. "You're not going back there by yourself," Seth insists. "It's not safe."

"I'll go with you," Becky offers quickly. "Or I can go and you can stay at the hotel with Seth—"

"I'm going." Sasha's grateful that it's a short drive. They always make a list of a few locations before a full moon in case their first choice doesn't work out, and luckily their second-best option isn't too far from the medical facility. The rest of the drive is mostly silent except for the radio on low and the occasional zipper sound as Becky grabs a bag from the back and fills it with extra towels. "We won't have enough water," Sasha adds before Becky can say anything, "so we'll wait for to have showers at the hotel. I already set a reminder on our calendar to restock our bags."

"Thank you, Sasha." Becky leans forward again and kisses Sasha's cheek quickly, not wanting to distract her from the road.

When they park, Seth is the first one out of the SUV, scanning the area. It's a small wooded area with roadside signs proclaiming that a new subdivision is going to be built soon, though the signs are weathered enough that the promise seems long forgotten; that means the developers won't be too bothered with a bit of debris since they're going to tear down all the trees anyway. Such places are often havens for teens and transients, but all three of them do a quick walk in several different directions and discover nothing more lively than a few owls. "Are we running together?" Seth asks as they start to disrobe, tucking their clothes and Sasha's phone in an empty bag to be stowed in a tree.

As much as Sasha would love a bit of solitude, she knows this isn't the time. She can have her space when she goes to clean the cabin site. "We should. Don't forget to take off your bandage."

Seth peels it off slowly, wincing when it pulls on his hair. "Probably won't need it after." He puts it in the bag's outer pocket, though, just in case. Then he glances at Becky and Sasha. "Everything's in?"

When Becky nods, dropping her gaze, Sasha softens somewhat and goes over to hug her. "You'll probably have the hardest time. You change first and we'll make sure you're okay before we shift, okay?" She kisses her before she can protest. "Go ahead. We're right here."

"I'll be quick." With a long, shuddering breath, Becky crouches down and shuts her eyes, simply concentrating on her breathing for a moment. Seth lingers until Sasha gives him a sharp nudge; then he gingerly climbs a tree and stows their bag. Becky's just starting to shift when he returns and it takes her twice as long as normal, but she's finally on four paws, padding over to Sasha for a pat on the head.

"Are you okay?" Sasha asks, cupping Becky's face and running her nails through the fur behind her ears. After Becky dips her head in a nod, Sasha steps back and looks up at Seth. "Okay. No one leaves the area until we're all ready, remember." Her phone alarm is set to go off in twenty minutes, and now she's glad she allotted the extra time. She and Seth are able to change more quickly, but it feels strangely unsatisfying, like settling for wearing a third-favourite pair of shoes because you can't find your best ones.

Sasha gives Becky's side a nudge, indicating for her to lead the way, but she declines, so Seth gently butts heads with them both and heads out, trusting them to follow. Runs are supposed to be wild, joyous things, but the three of them are rather sedate, all haunted by the night's first run in their own ways. It's more of a workout than a true run, and they're already heading back to the clearing when Sasha's alarm rings. Seth comes to a stop first, lowering himself to the ground to indicate he'll keep watch while the other two change back.

Becky's reversal is still shaky, but her eyes are bright and clear when it's done and she kneels by Seth, examining the fur by his neck. "No scars," she reports, letting her hand linger as she stands. Then she goes over to Sasha and ruffles her fur. "Thank you." Since their bag is still up in the tree, she wraps her arms around herself and dances around to fight the chill while Sasha begins her transformation.

Once Sasha's done, she hugs Becky from behind to keep her warm. "Next full moon will be better, bae-bae. Promise." She rests her head on Becky's shoulder while Seth changes back and both women spot him as he climbs the tree for the bag. There's no teasing as they get dried off and dressed, but the quiet isn't oppressive either. Sasha thinks it's more of a sheepish humility: for all of their close calls, whether within WWE or out on a run, they've always been fortunate enough to avoid any major danger. Now they know first-hand what can happen, and even that small taste is enough to spook them.

Neither Becky nor Seth complain about Sasha taking the wheel or heading back to the hotel. Since the event isn't until tomorrow—tonight now, technically—most of the other wrestlers haven't even arrived yet, so they don't have to worry about running into anyone they know. "I can take your stuff up," Becky offers, holding out her hand for Sasha's bags after they've left a request at the front desk not to be disturbed in the morning; Seth also gets his regular second key and hands it to Sasha when the clerk is making a note on their file. "The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll get back. Or did you want to have a shower first? I can wait. . . ."

Sasha shakes her head and follows Becky and Seth onto the elevator. "I'm just going to get dirty again," she points out, "so I'll shower when I get back. I want to change my shoes, though."

Once they get off on their floor, Seth hesitates in the hallway for a moment. "You sure you don't want one of us to go with you, Sash?" When she nods, he shrugs slowly, still mindful of his healing injury. "I'll keep my phone by the bed then, so call if you need anything, okay?"

"I will." When it seems like he's going to linger, Sasha shoots him a look and Seth finally goes to his room. When Becky moves towards their shared suite, Sasha grabs her hand. "Becks, wait."

Becky blinks in confusion, eyes tinted amber in the hallway lighting. "I thought you wanted to change your shoes?" Then she follows Sasha's gaze to Seth's door. "Oh. You _do_ want company. I'll go with you. Just let me dr—"

Sasha grabs Becky's face with both hands and kisses her, desperately at first and then dearly. She may not be showing it, but the near scare has left Sasha more rattled than she would like to admit. "I know you think I'm just nagging you," she says, cupping Becky's cheeks so she can look her square in the eye. "But _this_ is why I ask you every time, no matter how many times you decline—because _anything_ can happen at any time. You never know. We were lucky tonight." She gives Becky another kiss and then clasps her hands, trailing a finger over the last of Becky's scratches from the snare before she covers them with the keycard for Seth's room. "Next time we might not be. And if our luck doesn't hold out, do you really want to have regrets over Seth?"

She doesn't wait for Becky to reply. She doesn't wait to see which door Becky goes to, even when she hears the tell-tale beep of a lock being opened. It's out of her hands now, and there are other messes she needs to attend to tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

_What do I want to do?_ The real problem is that Becky has too many answers to that particular question. She wants a long hot shower, but she also wants to sleep. She wants to call her mother so she can ramble, but she also doesn't want to have to think until breakfast. She wants Sasha and she wants Seth and all the wanting is starting to make her feel selfish, or at least unworthy. _Shower,_ she tells herself, opening the door to the suite she's sharing with Sasha. She undresses quickly, grabs her kit, and heads to the bathroom.

The shower is lovely and refreshing—warm and misty, loud enough to drown out her thoughts without hurting her ears—but it isn't enough. She knows she's too keyed up to sleep, though, and the thought of calling her mother no longer holds much appeal; Annette is happy she has a pack to rely on in America, but she doesn't understand the sexual dynamics between Becky, Sasha, and Seth at all, and Becky doesn't feel like having that argument again, at least not in her current state. That leaves Sasha and Seth, and only one of them is there.

As much as Becky hates getting dressed right out of the shower, she does, choosing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans; now that she's clean, she can smell too many haunting memories on her running clothes, from Seth's blood to her frantic tears to the lingering sharpness of the hospital. As she's putting on her shoes, though, she stops herself. _His room is right next door. I don't need shoes._ It's a short walk—she can jog over in seconds—and the shoes are just another way to waste time. Kicking them aside, she grabs her keycard and hesitates over Seth's. It would be presumptuous to use it without knocking: he could be on the phone or in the bathroom or. . . . She makes her mind stop there. _Sasha might need it,_ she reasons, leaving Seth's keycard on the entry table and tucking hers in her pocket.

The walk to Seth's door is even shorter than she guessed, leaving her no time to think, and before she knows it her knuckles are rapping against the wood. _He must be in the shower,_ she thinks between the first and second knock. _There, Sasha. I tried. Happy now?_

Her third knock hits only air as the door opens. Seth's face has a wary set to it, but his eyes brighten when he sees her. "Hey." It's such a short little word, but it traps Becky's attention like a spider's web, and when he steps back to open the door wider, Becky feels herself almost pulled along with it. 

As she steps into his room— _His parlour, you little fly_ , she thinks—she randomly regrets being barefoot; it's too comfortable, too familiar. When he shuts the door behind her, she almost jumps at the click of the lock. "How are the drugs?" Becky shuts her eyes and groans. No matter how carefully she crafts what she wants to say in her head, her mouth seems to have different ideas. "Not—I mean. . . ."

Seth gives her a warm smile and it's his genuine one, a little bit lopsided. "I know what you meant." He's clearly just had a shower as well, because his hair is dripping down his shoulders and the towel balled up in his hands is damp. "I'm good. I can feel a bit of a haze, but nothing major. It'll be gone by breakfast. The run helped flush a lot of it from my system."

"That's good." Becky nods jerkily, jamming her hands in her pockets and clutching her keycard like a talisman. "I just thought it might be like a concussion is, you know? Where you shouldn't be alone?" It's ridiculous and she drops her gaze, but her mouth won't stop rambling. "Because of the drugs and whatever. I could keep you company until Sasha gets back if you wanted, but if you're go—"

"Company would be good." Seth's interjection draws her gaze back up just in time to see his flick to the side. "If you're not busy, I mean. Until Sasha gets back."

"No, I'm good." A shiver works its way across Becky's shoulders and she curls her hands into loose fists at her sides. "Can I. . . ." _Too cliche,_ she chastises herself. Asking to see his scar is about as smooth as a teenager asking her boyfriend to come to her room to see her new poster. "How's your neck?" she asks instead. "It was looking pretty good when you were a wolf. . . ."

"I think it's good." Then it's Seth's turn to pause, but he doesn't look nearly as indecisive as Becky feels. "If you don't mind, you could check it out for me. I forgot to turn on the fan in the bathroom, so the mirror was all fogged up."

A nervous laugh bubbles up Becky's throat, but she masks it with a cough as she steps closer. Seth's shoulders are wet from his hair and his chest is still a bit damp too; his waistband is skewed, as if he pulled his shorts on in a hurry to get the door. "Sure." She goes on tiptoe and pauses just before her hand grips his chin. "Just . . . tilt to the side a bit?" He obliges, his beard brushing against her fingers since she hasn't moved her hand yet. "A little more. Or does it hurt to stretch it?"

Seth starts to shake his head, but then forces himself to stay still. "It doesn't really _hurt_. You know how it is. I can feel a bit of strain, so I know something's not normal." 

Becky knows she should be using one hand to balance herself, but that would mean touching his shoulder or his chest, and his face seems safer at the moment. It's hard to keep her fingers from stroking his beard, though, and she has to force her mind to stay focussed on his shoulder. She's seen patches of beard burn on Sasha's skin when she's come back from being with Seth, and Becky can't deny being curious. "Let me know if it starts hurting." With her free hand, she examines Seth's stretched neck. Aside from a long patch of skin that's a bit darker than the rest, the wound has healed completely. Becky runs her thumb along its edges and, when Seth doesn't complain, digs in a little bit with her fingers. "It's almost done healing," she reports. "Still a bit hot, but that will fade." Her fingertips run back and forth over the vanishing scar, intrigued by the difference in the texture.

"Your hands are cold." Seth is so close to her ear that even his whisper is startling, and he grabs Becky's waist to steady her. "But it feels nice."

"I'm glad—that it's feeling better." She hopes she corrected herself quickly enough. "It looked so bad out in the forest." Maybe it's the warmth radiating from Seth's chest. Maybe it's his steady pulse, curling around hers like a vine. Maybe it's simply that she can't see his annoyingly unfathomable eyes since she's looking at his shoulder. Whatever it is, it makes it easier to be honest. Even though her feet are starting to ache, she rests her forehead on his shoulder and lets out a ragged breath. "I was so worried."

"I was fine. Because of you." He wraps his arms around her and hugs her close, burying his face in her hair. "It was too dangerous to change back so quickly. You could have broken something or—"

"You could have bled out or—" Becky won't let herself even think anything worse, let alone say it. Instead, fortified by Seth's arms, she kisses his wound softly. The muscles in his shoulders seem to melt under her fingers. "I don't think I've ever been that scared before." This could go on for hours, she knows. She's cuddled with Seth before or with him and Sasha together; she could do that now, waiting until Sasha returns. But then Sasha's words start to echo in her head: _Do you really want to have regrets over Seth?_

Becky's had plenty of insults and slights hurled her way over the years, but hardly anyone has accused her of being a coward. She left Ireland as a teenager to follow her dream and threw herself into wrestling with all her heart. She followed that dream around the world until she thought she couldn't any longer and even then, in ways so subtle she didn't even realize it until much later, she tried to piece it together like a patchwork quilt to keep her spirit warm. _What would that girl think of a bloody grown woman who can't even tell a guy she likes him?_

The thought of being bitched out by her teenage self is so absurd that Becky laughs, making Seth raise his head with what sounds like a groan of reluctance. "Becks, what—?"

_Just kiss him already._ It's Sasha's voice and Charlotte's voice and Becky's teenage voice, but most importantly, it's her inner voice, clear and strong at last. Seth's surprise made him loosen his arms just the slightest bit—just enough for her to move back, and so Becky does, cupping his face in both hands and kissing him.

Becky's done hard things before and easy things, the right thing and often the wrong thing, but she can't remember ever doing anything that felt like _everything_ all at once. Not until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hoped to finish ENSNARED before November, but I misjudged how much time I had and how much I could write, so I apologize. The story is not abandoned, though, I promise. Finishing it during NaNoWriMo is my first writing priority, and it will be the first story I edit and post in December. Apologies again, and thank you for understanding!


	11. Chapter 11

As a kid, Seth used to visualize his goals so often and so vividly that when he finally achieved them, they sometimes didn't feel quite real. When he became the inaugural NXT champion, knowing full well it was a measure of how much WWE believed in him, that the bosses saw his potential and wanted to invest in it, the rush of joy was muted by the how he had pictured the moment in his head. His first main event at a pay-per-view, first new car, first house: while he appreciated each milestone, they all fell just a bit short of the versions he had dreamed.

Kissing Becky hasn't exactly been a goal, at least not in the same sense as his other aspirations, but Seth has envisioned it plenty of times as well. In this case, though, the reality far outstrips anything his mind has conjured up. Her hands have warmed up now, her fingers sliding back into his hair, and even though he can almost hear her nerves jangling, there's an eerie serenity to her heartbeat.

Seth's mind feels as clean and crisp as fresh snow. He can't remember what he was thinking about or muster up a new thought to replace the forgotten ones; the past and the future are pushed aside like grand doors to usher in only this moment. When Becky starts to wrap her arms around his shoulders, though, one reality that never factored into his fantasies becomes painfully obvious: Becky's more than half a foot shorter than he is. He loosens his arms a bit from around her waist, intending to pick her up, but then Becky moves back too. "Sor—" To his surprise, she stops herself before finishing the apology. With a small shake of her head, she smiles and unwinds her arms from his shoulders as she lowers herself. "I just needed to know," she says softly, not quite meeting his gaze but not fully looking away either. "I know I should have asked first and I won't do—"

Leaning down, Seth rekindles the kiss, cupping the back of her head. It's not a position that will be comfortable for long—he knows from too many experiences with shorter ex-girlfriends—but he's desperate not to lose the moment. _It'll mean more if she hears it from you_. Sasha's admonition drifts through his mind, but he can't think of what to say; all the words that come to him either feel like commands or pleas—but when it comes to Becky, he's not afraid of the latter. "Please stay."

"Seth, you don't have to—" Becky's not exactly pulling away, but she's resting her forehead on his shoulder again, breathing deeply. "Just because you're with Sasha doesn't mean you have to be with me too. That's not how packs work. I know that."

"I know that too." The slightest wisp of irritation makes Seth shut his eyes; normally it doesn't bother him that Becky and Sasha both grew up with packs, but now he misses having that experience, that knowledge base. He never wants to say the wrong thing around Becky, but this would be the absolute worst time to do it. His lips are still tingling and he doesn't want to numb them with words, but he knows he has to say _something_. "And this has nothing to do with Sasha or our pack or—"

Becky raises an eyebrow, trying to look cynical, but Seth knows her too well: that's insecurity in her eyes, not incredulity. "I've seen the women you've dated, remember? I'm nothing like them. You have a type and I'm not—"

Seth cuts her off with another kiss, harder and hungrier than the last, and this time he does pick her up, grabbing the back of her thighs and hoisting her up to his hips. She lets out a little squeak of surprise that makes him chuckle as she grabs at his shoulders for balance. He can feel her relax bit by bit, though, confident that he won't drop her, and when her arms wrap around his shoulders again, it's as comfortable as if they've fit together this way a hundred times before. "They've all been human—" Seth pauses, grateful they both need to catch their breath again. 

"So I'm the right species? That's . . . flattering." Becky's laughing as she says it, though, and she doesn't try to pull away this time. "Would you be with Sasha if she weren't a werewolf? Or if you weren't?"

Sighing, Seth sits down in the large armchair in the corner of his suite. Becky tries to scoot back, but he only lets her move so far, holding her thighs in place. "You know I wouldn't. Sasha's engaged. What I have with her—what _you_ have with her—we all know it's a pack thing. There's no . . . sense of expectation there. We all know it'll never go farther than this."

"And with us?" Before Seth can reply, Becky leans in and kisses him softly, letting her lips linger for a moment as she trails her fingers along his jaw. The combination of wonder and wistfulness in her gaze makes Seth dizzy. "You never said anything to me. It was always Sasha asking, so I thought she just . . . you know, wanted me to feel included."

"Becks. . . ." When Seth slides a hand around the back of her neck, her eyes flutter shut and her teeth sink into her bottom lip, making it difficult for him to focus. He's always wondered how she likes to be touched and where, and while Sasha's teased him with tidbits, he never knew how much was genuine and how much was her joking with him. "I would never treat you like that. Ever. I would hope you would at least know that." 

She drops her gaze at that, so Seth tilts her chin back up with his free hand. "I know. I mean, I _know_ , but it's just . . . I don't know. Sasha said something right away, so I knew where I stood with her. And you _didn't_ say anything, so. . . ."

"I should have." Seth pulls her in closer again, moving his hands to her hips. "But then so many of the guys were making jokes about us having a threesome and I remembered what it was like when my pictures were leaked, so I didn't want you to have to go through that. They had gotten bored of bugging me and Sasha, but if you were in the picture too, I thought—" Resting his forehead against hers, he sighs. "I should have said something. I'm sorry. I should have been focussed on what you were going to think, not whatever they might do. And thank you."

The last bit takes by Becky by surprise, her laugh making their heads knock together gently. "Sorry," she murmurs, pulling his head down so she can kiss the spot where their foreheads collided. "And what are you thanking me for, exactly?"

The grin that lifts his cheeks comes easily, as natural as a reflex in her presence. "for kissing me. I've been wanting to make a move for so long now and—" He glances away before she can see the hunger in his eyes. It's not all about sex and it never has been, but he won't deny that it's a huge part either; he's dreamt about it, fantasized about it, and even now it's difficult not to just take her over to the bed. If it took them this long to kiss, though, he knows he has to be patient. "I just wish I had been the one to make the first move, that's all."

Laughing, Becky tentatively trails a hand down his chest. His hair may still be damp, but between his raised body temperature and being pressed up against Becky, the rest of him is mostly dry. "I'm more dressed for the occasion than you are," she quips.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Seth sneaks his hands under the hem of her shirt, fingers playing with her waistband. "I think you're a little overdressed, to be honest." He forces his hands to stay close to her waist. As relaxed as Becky seems to be, he doesn't want to rush her and lose any chance he has with her. "It's a good look," he says at last. "Sometimes I forget you own pants that aren't leggings."

"A good look," she echoes, inching closer. This kiss is slower and softer, so ephemeral that it takes Seth a moment to realize she's pulled back to look at him. "Would this," she asks, gripping the hem of her shirt with both hands, "be a better look?"

The glimpse of bare skin at her midriff is enticing, even if Seth's seen her naked countless times. It's the look in her eyes—settled, self-confident, _sure_ —that's sexy as hell to him. "There you go again," he teases, moving his hands up to the exposed skin, "making the first move before I do."

"If you want to," Becky replies, hands dropping her shirt in favour of sliding around his shoulders, "I'll let you have this one."

"This one." Seth slides his hands up her back slowly, revelling in the feel of her skin. She showered recently too—he can smell her soap and the ghost of water—but her skin is wonderfully smooth beneath his fingers. "What about the next move?"

Becky moves back from kissing his neck just long enough for him to pull her shirt over her head. "You'll have to work for that."

Seth's hands are on her back again, unhooking her bra before she can lean in to kiss him. "You were saying?" he retorts, sliding her bra down her arms and dropping it to the floor.

Her gaze never leaves his. "I'll let you have that. The next one, though. . . ."

Seth pulls her up against him, the suddenness of skin against skin enough to make his mind go blank for a moment. It feels like the moment between wolf and human, where nothing is certain or solid and everything is charged with energy—except this is a transformation he can enjoy every day if he's lucky.


	12. Chapter 12

"Why can't they just fuck already?" Sasha's probably spat out the same incredulous question twenty times or more on her way to the cabin, and she still doesn't have an answer. She's done everything she can think of short of stripping them both naked and locking them in a hotel room together, but in the end, it's up to them. She doubts Becky will use the keycard she gave her; Becky would probably consider it an intrusion. And Seth won't go over and knock on Becky's door, because he's so damn worried about what everyone else will think. It's like playing chess and knowing exactly which moves need to be made, but someone's glued the pieces to the board.

She thought about calling her fiance or even Roman or Charlotte, but Sasha knows this problem is uniquely theirs. It's a strange blend of sex and love and family they have and it's not one most humans could understand. Sasha loves both Becky and Seth with all her heart, but those equations don't add up to marriage or kids or any of the other milestones she wants out of her personal life—and that's fine by her. The idea of having one person be her everything has never appealed to her. Once she's married and has children, then things will change, and that's her blind spot, the wall she's not ready to climb. That's why she's been so patient with Becky and Seth, she figures: she knows what it's like to have an obstacle of your own making, and those are a hundred times harder to overcome than the ones the rest of the world puts in your way.

_Here. Safe._ Sasha sends the text to both Becky and Seth after she's parked at the cabin they abandoned. Traffic was even lighter so late at night—or, she supposes, so early in the morning—so it was a quick drive to the park and once she reached the border of the forest, she didn't encounter any other drivers. Still, she doesn't want a repeat of Seth's accident with the snare, especially since she's alone, so she does a quick circuit of the area to make sure she is indeed alone and that there are no other traps to contend with. When she's reasonably assured, Sasha takes all of their things out of the cabin, dumps them in a large garbage bag to sort out later, and cleans up any traces of blood, fur, or plasma. Anything that's stained goes in a second bag along with the syringes from the car, and within minutes the cabin looks even better than when they arrived. Then she goes to where the snare was set and tidies up that site as well, even though she hates to touch the metal again.

After stowing the bags in the SUV, Sasha glances down at her phone. She has different notification tones assigned to Becky and Seth and she didn't hear either of them while she was cleaning. It's not like them to not at least reply with _okay_ or an emoji, so she tries again, doing another walk-through of the forest while she waits. When she doesn't get an answer in ten minutes, she dials Seth's number first; Becky doesn't always answer right away when she's out of sorts, but Seth will. When the call connects after three rings, Sasha breathes a sigh of relief. Becky and Seth may be infuriating, but they're _hers_ —her wolves, her lovers, her friends. With very few exceptions, there's no one in the world who means more to her. "Seth, why didn't you text back? You were so worried about me going alone and then you don't even bother to answer?"

"Hey, Sash." Seth sounds out of breath, as if he had to run to grab his phone. "Sorry. I was in the shower and. . . ."

Seth's still talking, but there's another sound on his end of the line that catches Sasha's ear, a soft mewling she knows very well. "Is that Becky?" She tries to keep herself from crowing joyously, so she's glad it's not a video call; at least Seth can't see her triumphant grin.

"What? Uh, yeah. She . . . uh, thought it would be better if I had company because of the drugs and . . . uh, yeah, so she's here with me." There are small groans underscoring his words that Sasha recognizes as well.

"With you or _with_ you?" Sasha teases. Between getting the cabin site cleaned up and hearing Seth and Becky together—in whatever capacity—all the tension that was keeping her going drains away, and she slumps against a tree, grinning like a madman. When Seth doesn't answer right away, Sasha adds, "Are you clothed?"

There's another moment of silence on Seth's end, followed by a hint of Becky's bashful chuckle. "Sort of?" Seth replies.

Sasha's gleeful laugh rings out in the early morning stillness, startling some birds in the distance. "Don't wear her out too much, okay? We have a tag match tonight and Hunter will blame her dopeyness on me." A wave of relieved delight washes through her and she does a little happy dance, blowing kisses up to the moon. Part of her wants to rush back and join them, but she knows Becky and Seth need time on their own to figure out how they fit together and what their connection will be. "So that means if I wanted to hang out at the cabin for a while and go for a swim in the lake," Sasha adds, "you two will be fine without me?"

"Be careful." Seth's voice has sobered up a bit, and Sasha doesn't want to keep him on the phone much longer; Becky deserves his undivided attention after waiting so long. "If someone comes to check that snare—"

"No one's going to check a snare at this hour." Sasha is already running towards the lake. She would love nothing more than to shift back to her wolf form, running and howling with unabashed happiness, but she knows solo runs can be dangerous. "I'll stay human and I'll text every . . . thirty minutes or so? Just send me a thumbs-up so I know you're alive. Love you guys."

Sasha disconnects before either of them can protest; they need to concentrate on each other right now. Her senses are still heightened enough that she can tell there are no humans nearby, so she disrobes and leaves her clothes, phone, and car keys in the hollow of a tree near the shore before jumping in the water, splashing around with abandon. Just hours ago, this had easily been the worst full moon of her life; now it's become one of the most fulfilling. She would gladly take the snare out of the equation if she could, but as she swims, basking in the water and the caress of the full moon, Sasha wonders if there's some way to repurpose it, transform it into a gift, the same way this night became a gift for all of them.


	13. Chapter 13

_So beard burn is definitely a thing._ It's hard to think with Seth kissing his way up her thigh, but Becky manages to have a few coherent thoughts. It's been months since she had a male partner and her last one was human, so she's not entirely sure what to expect. Sasha's definitely never complained about Seth, but Becky never asked for details either; Sasha always seemed very satisfied, and Becky's insecurity didn't make her want to picture anything in detail, so the less she knew, the better. Now she's wishing she had at least asked for some advice before Sasha left to clean up the cabin. The last time she had sex with a male werewolf was in her teens, and it was awkward the way most teenage sex is, so she doesn't have a deep well of experience to draw from.

"Becks? You okay?" Seth sits up enough so that he can see her face, and the simmering heat in his eyes scrambles her brain all over again. 

"Yeah." Becky glances over at the nightstand, almost willing Sasha to text with her half-hour check-in, but her last one was only about ten minutes ago, while Becky was giving Seth a blowjob and he almost fumbled his phone to the floor. "Yeah, I just . . . condoms?" She covers her face with one hand. Nothing she wants to say today is coming out properly. "I never thought about them and I don't know how you and Sasha do. . . ." Sex talks in a pack happen early, often, and candidly, because the consequences can be deadly. But it's one thing to know the logistics and another to put them into action. With Sasha, pregnancy has never been a concern, so it was easy to forget about.

Seth sprawls out beside her, resting an arm across her hips. It's a comfortable weight and she lets her fingers curve around his elbow. "Well, you and Sash always said that it's not an issue right around the full moon. The rest of the time. . . ." He trails off, looking sheepish as he kisses her shoulder.

"Hey." Becky eases onto her side and kisses him, stroking his face. Beard burn is a small price to pay for burning kisses and fevered words pressed to places Seth had barely even seen before an hour ago. "I didn't mean anything by that. You and Sasha were together first and you'll always have your own thing. I know that. I just meant I . . . I'm out of the loop," she says finally, feeling a bit foolish. Seth comes to her and Sasha when he has questions about werewolf culture and here she is, floundering for answers. "It's been a long time since I had sex with another werewolf at all before Sasha, and even further back with a werewolf male." She lets her hand drift down his chest, stopping just below his navel. "And I never talked about it with Sasha because it felt . . . intrusive." Guilt surges through Becky at that: if nothing else, Sasha and Seth are her friends, perhaps her closest ones aside from Charlotte, and she should have been able to talk about their relationship with them, even if it made her feel awkward.

"Sasha would talk about you all the time," Seth laughs. "I was never sure if she was trying to make me jealous or turn me on or what. Maybe a bit of both."

Becky knows she probably shouldn't ask, but on the other hand, it took them this long just to get together. If they go back to being awkward now, it'll take another year before they can talk about anything. "Did it work?"

"Yes." Seth rolls her onto her back again and starts kissing her neck. "On both counts." He squeezes a breast in one hand while the other coaxes her legs apart. "Part of me hated it, because it felt wrong to be thinking of someone else when I was with her—even if it was you."

Becky understands all too well, because her heart flutters at that, imagining him thinking of her. "Not enough to do anything about it, though." His mouth is on her breast now, and he pinches the nipple of the other hard enough to make her back arch. 

"Don't remind me," he groans, kissing his way down her abdomen while both hands play with her breasts. "Just thinking of what I've missed. . . . ."

Then Seth's between her legs again, hands moved down to her hips, and now it's his tongue at work. His hair dried a while ago and Becky twines her hands in it, her fingers wearing his curls like rings. "But did you . . . like it a bit, too?" she asks, voice breaking during a particularly long stroke from Seth's tongue. "The teasing?"

"Yes." Every time Seth moves his mouth away to speak, he slides his fingers inside her. "Because it meant I could have you. Could have you both. If Sasha could have you and me, then I could have the two of you. I didn't have to feel greedy for wanting you too."

Becky knows that feeling all too well. She never wanted Sasha to feel like she wasn't enough, but nothing she did—or didn't do—would dampen her attraction to Seth either. There will be plenty of time to talk about feelings and entanglements later, but her gaze keeps being drawn back to Seth's phone. "Sasha's going to be texting in about ten minutes."

"Is that your very subtle way of saying we should fuck already?" He laughs, but Seth doesn't need much convincing. After a few quick nips to her inner thighs, Seth moves over her, dipping his head down to kiss her. "Do you want to top?"

_Yesyesyes_. The thought is like hands in Becky's mind, grabbing at Seth and pulling him closer. Her palms are still tingling a bit from the snare, however, and she doubts she has the stamina after all of Seth's teasing. No first time with a new partner is ever perfect, but after everything they've been through this full moon, Becky wants to be sure they both enjoy what remains of the night. "Not right now—"

"Good." Then he's inside her so quickly she barely has time to draw in a breath and his shoulders are cresting like waves under her hands and he's moaning her name over and over, and Becky almost feels like she's shifting again, each twist and turn of her body transforming herself into something new, something wilder than before. 

They're both loud enough that she spares a thought for Seth's neighbours, but that concern is fleeting. The fire spiralling up through her core eats up all her attention, all her air, and when Seth sinks his teeth into her shoulder—hard enough to bruise, but not to truly hurt—pleasure and pain fuse together and become one unyielding rush through her body.

Seth climaxes not long after she does, blinking rapidly as if he just stepped out of complete darkness to emerge in full daylight. "Fuck." He flops down on the bed beside her, sweat beading on his chest, and when his phone chimes, it's all he can do to flick his gaze over to the bedside table. "Can you—"

"Yeah." Becky rolls over just enough to grab his phone, then rests her head on his chest after handing it to him. She's snuggled with him before, but this—the sex, the rush, the openness—is so much better than just good friendship and body heat. "All good?"

Turning the screen towards her, Seth smiles. "She's on her way back. Told us to stop fucking and get some sleep." He taps out two letters— _no_ —before setting the phone aside. "She's the one who kept telling us to get together," he grins, pulling Becky into a kiss. "She needs to make up her mind."

Becky just smiles, holding him close. At some point, yes, they'll have to sleep and shower and eat, but for now, they have some catching up to do.


	14. Chapter 14

Full moons bring heightened senses, increased awareness, intensified feelings. The mornings after, though, are often defined by the negatives. The feelings that had been so vibrant the night before start to feel overwhelming. The alertness begins to feel more like paranoia. The amplified senses become more of a burden than a boon. Seth has flinched from bright sunlight more than once on the morning after a full-moon night and he fully expects to do so that morning, but there's something soft covering his face. At first he figures it's the bed sheet, but there are too many gaps and too much colour; most hotels keep things as bland and neutral as possible in their colour schemes.

When he reaches up to brush it aside, Seth realizes it's hair, so his first thought goes to Sasha. She almost always goes back to her room to sleep with Becky after she's done with him, though, and the colour is wrong. _Becky._ The hair is as bright and warm as fire, and the memories that follow are an inferno, burning up every thought in his head aside from the fact that Becky's in his bed. Or is he in hers? Seth doesn't care in the slightest. They could be in a cardboard box for all he cares, as long as they're together.

Becky's curled up close to his chest, but part of him still doesn't believe any of this—Becky in his arms or all the things that happened before to get her there—but it feels too real to be a dream. The softness of her skin, the press of her body, the sleepy beat of her heart: they're all things he's wondered about and dreamed about and now they're in his bed, in his hands, and all he can think is _Wow._

Seth is trying not to move, not to disturb her, but he can tell the exact moment when Becky wakes up. The muscles in her abdomen go taut, her fingers curl, and her next breath is a gasp, sharp and soft all at once. "Shit. It's morning?" She buries her face against his chest the way he seeks refuge in a pillow. "Of course it's morning. Shit. Sorry." Her hand slides off his chest to the mattress to brace herself as she rises. "What time is it?" He can feel her eyelashes fluttering against his chest as she struggles to wake up. 

"Don't worry about that." Seth runs a hand up and down her back, relaxing as she eases back against him. He doesn't want her to leave; he doesn't even want to leave the room. It's not like the event that night is a pay-per-view. Someone else can take their matches. He's waited and wondered for too long to be content with just one night—no matter how incredible it was.

"I need to shower, though." Becky props herself up enough to meet his gaze, and he's smugly pleased to see that her eyes are still hazy. After a moment, she starts to blush and she looks over to his phone, its light blinking accusingly. "I should talk to Sasha."

"Later," Seth urges, pulling her on top of him. The little gasp she lets out when she presses against his cock melts into laughter, and he loves both sounds equally. _She's not used to waking up to this,_ he has to remind himself, picturing her and Sasha tangled together as they sleep. "And you already had a shower—"

"Considering how messy we were," Becky replies, no awkwardness in her grin now, "I don't think that counts." Seth misses the sheepishness, but only slightly; it's an easy trade for finally being able to touch her. "Fifteen minutes." 

The words are shaped mid-kiss and Seth wraps his arms around her to keep her from leaving. "You said fifty minutes, right?" he teases, nuzzling her neck.

"Funny, you didn't have any problems understanding my accent last night." Becky starts moving her hips slowly, grinding against him as she slides both hands into his hair and tugs.

It feels like little sparks running along his scalp and Seth loves it. He's had long hair for a while now—with his type of curls, it's just easier, strangely enough—but now he resolves not to cut it for a while. The longer they kiss, the louder Becky's heartbeat gets—until he realizes it's not her heart at all. "Do you hear that?" He hates to pull away—it still feels like this could all still shatter at any given second—but if Housekeeping is at the door, they could be coming in at any moment if they think the room is unoccupied.

"I have coffee!" Sasha's voice carries just enough through the door that it won't disturb anyone else nearby, another perk of werewolf hearing. "And the keycard!"

Groaning, Seth leans back into the scattered pillows. He would have loved more time with Becky, but of course Sasha is going to be curious. During all her check-ins, she refrained from asking for details, but they can't hold her off forever. "Come in." Becky slides off Seth just as the door beeps open, but Seth loops an arm around her waist. "Stay. Please?" He can feel some of Becky's insecurity seeping back in, so he holds her close and kisses her forehead. 

If Becky's worried about their packmate's reaction, she needn't be: Sasha is all smiles as she closes the door behind her. "Full disclosure: I gave it to her last night," she says as she sets Seth's extra keycard on the entry table. "Glad to see you didn't need it, bae-bae."

Seth raises an eyebrow as he looks down at Becky, who's trying to burrow under the blankets. "I don't remember you mentioning that."

"I didn't feel right using it," Becky mutters, curling up on her side and resting her head on Seth's shoulder. She's not as close as she had been, but Seth's glad she at least feels like she doesn't have to leave the bed. "You could have been on the phone or in the shower or something. . . ."

Sasha sits on the edge of the bed closest to Seth and sets two take-out coffee cups on the bedside table. "He doesn't jerk off in bed," she reports casually. "If he'd been doing that, he would have been in the shower. You wouldn't have walked in on anything."

"Gee, thanks, Sash." As much as Seth would love the coffee, he doesn't want to make Becky move. To his surprise, though, she reaches over him, grabs one of the cups, and sits up against the headboard, letting the sheets pool around her hips. "Okay then."

Becky just shrugs. "She's seen everything already," she replies, "and we're a pack—or at least I think we still are." She looks over to Sasha nervously before she sips at her coffee.

"Of course we are, Becks." Sasha crawls over Seth's legs to hug Becky, then sits facing them. If two of them hasn't been naked and seconds away from fucking, they would just look like three friends chatting over coffee. "At least that's what I want." Sasha smiles at her before looking over to Seth. "I don't know if that's changed for either of you."

When Seth shakes his head, it sends his mussed hair flying, and Becky smooths it back without hesitation. He shoots her a grin that makes her blush before he picks up his coffee. "I love our pack. I've never wanted that part of it to change. Just—"

"Just me," Becky says softly, taking the lid off her coffee and stirring it gently with a finger. "I love you both. You know that, or at least I hope you do. I love being with Sasha and—" When words fail her, she glances over at Seth and smiles, and he understands completely. They've only had one night together, after all. It's been an amazing night, to be sure, but she's hardly going to make promises based on a few hours of great sex." But for all three of us together . . . I think I need to work up to that."

"No." Sasha shakes her head adamantly, gripping Becky's leg. "Becks, if it's not your thing, it's not your thing. That's okay. Don't feel like you have to try it to make me or Seth happy, okay? I'm just glad you two idiots finally fucked," she adds with a delighted laugh. "If I have to wait months or a year to have you both in my bed at the same time, then that's how long I wait. If it never happens, then it doesn't. I just want _all_ of us to be happy. If someone's not comfortable with something, then it doesn't happen. Simple as that. Agreed?"

Becky nods, sending hair tumbling over her shoulder, and Seth twines a strand through his fingers. He wants the threesome as much as Sasha does, but he's not going to push either. The prospect of something with Becky, even if it is just casual at first, is too important to him to risk. Besides, in this case, working towards a goal will be its own sort of fun. "Of course." Then he shuts his eyes and chuckles. "At least full-moon nights are going to be easier now, I hope."

"As long as your dumbass self doesn't run into another snare," Sasha retorts. Then her grin sharpens. "So when I called, were you two actually fucking? I asked if you were clothed and you said _sort of_ or some bullshit. . . ."

Seth shares a glance with Becky, whose eyes go wide. He has no problem sharing some details with Sasha—he always figured she told things to Becky and was surprised to learn that wasn't always the case—but for now, there's some things he wants to keep to himself. "If Becky wants to share," he says at last, "she can. We kissed, we talked, we had sex." He's not trying to be dismissive, and reducing something he's thought about so often to a handful of words feels wrong, but he needs more time with Becky—with Becky _alone_ —to get a better sense of how their dynamic is going to change before he can hope to describe it.

Sasha clearly doesn't buy it, but she doesn't push. The joy she's radiating is as bright as the sun from the window and after a bit more teasing from everyone, even Becky, the last bits of hesitance fall away and even though two of them are naked, it _is_ just like friends having coffee, because that's what they are. Friends, lovers, packmates, and lucky to find people who can be all three.


	15. Chapter 15

Things changed. All three of them knew they would, even if they couldn't predict exactly the how or why or when of it. There's not much point in trying to keep it secret in the locker room or backstage since almost everyone suspected anyway, but they still try to at least be discreet. 

Seth still gets a separate suite for appearance's sake, but now he gets the second keycard for Becky and Sasha's suite and they share the first, which is still a work in progress. Now he comes to them, rather than Sasha bouncing between the rooms. Each full moon brings them closer and closer and at the last, they had their first attempt at a threesome. Sasha realizes now that trying to have Becky in the middle during her first experience was probably a mistake; the combination of the full moon and shifting and so much contact was overwhelming, but Seth managed to keep her from panicking. They've been taking it slower ever since, but Sasha doesn't mind. It means long, lazy nights of kissing and touching and cuddling, all of which serve as a nice reminder that while the sex is a wonderful complement to their bond, it's not the core of it. It's the togetherness they truly crave, and sex is only one way there.

Sometimes Seth texts first, making sure they're done before he comes over to their room. Other times he comes early and not always to join in. Sasha's a bit surprised by how much he enjoys the simple act of watching; if she had realized that earlier, she would have suggested it months ago, hoping it would nudge him and Becky together. She and Becky are a tangle of kisses and hands when they both stop, Becky's fingers just a whisper away from the spot that can make Sasha cry out in seconds. "Seth," they say as one, recognizing his voice easily.

Then they hear another voice, one that's also familiar, though not intimately so. Sasha muffles her laugh against Becky's breast. "Ha. He got stopped by Roman!"

It's far enough away from the full moon that their hearing isn't at its peak, but Becky and Sasha can still make out enough words to follow the conversation. Roman starts by teasing Seth about doing double duty, then makes a remark about how Seth used to consider Becky like a sister. She giggles at that, curling closer to Sasha. "Guess we're going to have to wait a bit before we try anything at an arena," she says with a chuckle.

Sasha can hear the disappointment beneath it, though. She and Seth had fun in locker rooms at the start before anyone caught on, but by the time she and Becky got together, people knew what to watch for. Now there's too much scrutiny for any of them to get away with much, but Sasha wants to Becky to experience that rush as well, the giddiness that comes with knowing you could be interrupted at any moment. "I could be your lookout," Sasha offers, sliding her hand between Becky's legs again as they listen to Roman giving Seth a speech about treating women respectfully. "You could have a phone with you and I could always pretend to be texting my brother and then if someone's getting too close—"

The keycard is swiped through the reader then, the beep cutting Sasha off mid-word, and Seth shuts the door emphatically. "Holy fuck. Roman must think I've never been in a healthy relationship before."

Sasha raises an eyebrow. "You have to admit your track record isn't the greatest, Rollins, at least not as long as he's known you." Then she gestures to herself and Becky like a game show hostess displaying prizes. "But you've clearly learned _something_ , right?"

"I'm not sure _sleeping with an engaged woman as well as my best friend_ counts as healthy," Seth replies, kicking off his shoes at the door. He never takes clothes off unless he's clearly invited into the bed—or the shower, or wherever Becky and Sasha happen to be.

"Well, we wouldn't want you to be _unhealthy_ now, would we, Becky?" Normally Sasha's quite happy to include him right away, but now she feels like making him wait, so she pushes Becky back down on the bed. "No touching," she orders, holding Seth's gaze as she slides two fingers into Becky. "And that includes touching yourself." That was one lesson they learned the hard way, especially since they had to spend much of that particular evening cleaning up the aftermath.

"Can he . . . at least take his shirt off?" Becky sighs beneath her, wrapping her fingers around Sasha's wrist and urging it forward.

Glancing up, Sasha sees that Seth already has his shirt halfway over his head. "Oh, fine." She may pretend to be annoyed, but she loves seeing them together as much as she loves being with them herself. "No hands, and pants on for now," Sasha amends as Seth comes over to the bed. "You only get to use your mouth."

"I'm fine with that. For now." But Seth breaks one of the rules almost instantly, tugging on Becky's hair until she tilts her head back far enough for him to kiss her. Sasha knows how much she loves that, though, so she lets the transgression slide. It gives her better access to Becky's neck, anyway, and she can feel Becky's moans building, as deep as a cat's purr.

"Faster, Sasha. Please."

Sasha's happy to oblige, but it takes her a moment to realize that if Becky's pleading, then she's not kissing Seth anymore. A shadow blurs her peripheral vision and then there's a soft wave of breath on the nape of her neck. "Using my hands to keep my balance doesn't count," Seth murmurs against her shoulder. As he starts kissing a path along her spine, Sasha can see his arms planted on either side of her and Becky, and it doesn't take long for Becky to grip his forearms as her orgasm starts to unfurl.

" _Sasha_ —"

Sasha's legs were already spread so she could pin Becky down, but she didn't think Seth would be able to contort himself into a position to take advantage of that. _Gotta give the boy some credit,_ she thinks when she feels the first swipe of his tongue. Then there's the brush of knuckles as Becky grabs a handful of his hair, helping to guide him closer. Their bodies make an awkward tangle, especially since Becky and Sasha were already close to the edge of the bed, but it's the closest Sasha has felt to the exhilaration of a full-moon run in human form. 

Becky comes first, one hand digging into Sasha's shoulder and the other tightening in Seth's hair, but it doesn't take Sasha long to follow suit, sprawling across the bed. When Seth moves to sit up, though, Becky tugs on his hair until he stretches out beside her. "Hey," Sasha protests mildly, still basking in the unexpected orgasm. "He broke the rules." Becky's too busy kissing him and working on unfastening his jeans to notice.

Seth breaks the kiss long enough to smile at Sasha. "I don't think you're going to sway her with that one." Once she has his zipper open, he reaches down to help her push his jeans over his hips.

"Oh, I think I can." Even if Seth had been in the bathroom, there wouldn't be much point in whispering, but Sasha's pretends anyway, leaning close to Becky's ear and listing off some potential punishments. "So what do you think, Becks?"

Becky's grin is a twin of Sasha's, warm and wicked. "Consider me swayed."


	16. Chapter 16

Full moons were always something they shared, but now that they share each other too, the runs feel more complete, more soothing. Sometimes the playing starts early with a romp back at the hotel or wherever they're staying. They all had the last full moon off, so Seth invited Sasha and Becky to his house, and he couldn't remember when he had spent so much time in his own bed when he was home. The freedom to be open and naked without the worry of housekeeping staff or friends knocking at the door felt luxuriant. 

They try not to play too much in the SUV on the way to their chosen running spot, and only in part so they don't distract the driver. They had a near miss when they were pulled over by a police officer checking vehicles for a missing child, and Becky had to quickly wrap herself in a travel blanket to hide the fact that she was naked. After the fateful night with the snare, they've all come to appreciate having a cabin on site, so they specifically look for places where they can spend the night if they like. It makes finding remote spots more difficult, but the time they get to spend together makes it worth it. They have sex off and on all month long—Seth and Becky more than any other combination—but around the full moon it's almost transcendent.

As soon as Seth parks, both Sasha and Becky are out of the SUV, bags in hand as they run towards the cabin. Even in their rush, they'll walk around the area first, checking for any potential danger: traps, cameras, other animals or people. For all the good things that night brought them, they'll never forget that it could have easily gone the other way. Seth's wound has long since healed, but even he rubs the spot once in a while as if he can feel the snare cutting in. He does it now as he watches Sasha and Becky emerge from the cabin, bags safely tucked away. "Perimeter?" he asks.

They walk side by side by side when they can, or one falls behind when the path is too narrow, but they always stay close, pointing out potential hazards as well as good trails for running. When they're all confident that the immediate vicinity is safe, that's when the fun truly begins. Chasing each other back to the cabin, tugging at clothing along the way but waiting to take it off until they're back, their runs are finally both fun and refreshing. The cabin is barely in sight when Seth sweeps Becky off her feet and kisses her, pressing her up against a tree as his hands slide under her shirt. One bonus to wearing clothing that's easy to put on is that it's usually equally easy to take off.

"When I said I wanted you two to fuck," Sasha laughs as she undresses, "I didn't mean _literally all the time_." She wore a short sundress that she has off in a flash, and her bra and panties are quick to follow. It's always tempting to wear as little as possible, but they still have to be prepared to be presentable in public too.

"It's been hours," Becky protests, sliding down out of Seth's arms to go kiss Sasha. She knows there are no hurt feelings, but since she remembers all too well what it's like to be on the outside looking in, she wants to make certain Sasha knows how much she's adored.

"Several hours." Seth comes over too, lifting Sasha off her feet and kissing her. It's an odd picture, with him fully dressed and her completely naked, but it sums up the dichotomy of their lives. Even though they spend most of their time in human form, their werewolf nature is their core; it defines them, limiting them and enhancing them at the same time.

Sasha rolls her eyes, but accepts and returns the kisses happily. "Less than a day. Freakin' nymphos." She hops down to her feet and stretches. "Spot me while I shift? I want to run around, but if you two want to fuck first, feel free. I promise I won't head over to the river without you."

Becky's hands are already on the drawstring of Seth's sweatpants. "We'll meet you over by those three big rocks, okay? Give us fifteen." A wolf's sense of time is different than a human's, but they always seem to be able to judge accurately enough.

Seth can't resist. "Yep. Fifty minutes." He grins as he gets a friendly jab from Becky on one side and a quick smack from Sasha on the other.

"I'm really going to have to start using this accent thing to my advantage." Becky pulls Seth down into a kiss while Sasha is shifting, and they both ruffle her fur before Sasha lopes off, giving an indelicate snort that translates to something close to _lovable idiots_.

After watching Sasha venture into the forest, Seth focusses wholly on Becky. "We could have gone to the rocks too. . . ."

Becky shakes her head. "If you're offering to be on the bottom, sure." They retreat into the cabin instead, shedding clothes quickly so they'll be able to meet up with Sasha; they can unwrap each other like presents another time. Seth barely waits until she's peeled off her leggings before he picks her up and presses her against the wall, making the old window rattle with each thrust. It's rough and fast, but they appreciate each time they're together, knowing how many times they could have been but weren't. Wolves aren't prone to regret, but their human sides can wallow in it, and neither of them want to live that way anymore.

After having a quick drink of water, they go outside to shift, crouching side by side. Becky leans over and kisses his neck where his scar would be, letting her tongue trace its ghostly edges. "Whatever happened to the snare? Sasha threw it out, right?"

Seth just grins. "I'm not telling. Maybe I have plans for it." He's thought of making a bracelet for her and Sasha somehow, or some piece of art the can display. The snare could have taken his life, so he wanted at least a piece of it as a reminder.

"Like Sasha said, _lovable idiot_." Becky kisses him before she settles back into position. Now that her hesitance is gone, she shifts just as quickly as Seth and Sasha do, and he wonders how many other ways she held herself back.

Things changed. But not everything. Seth still watches her shift to make sure she transforms safely, and she spots him, but now they run alongside each other, towards Sasha, and then they can all run together as a pack, no longer an open triangle but a circle, cohesive and strong and whole.


End file.
